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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055343">Aether's Legacy</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightNS/pseuds/LightNS'>LightNS</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gra55/pseuds/NotGra55'>NotGra55 (Gra55)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Official Extramundane Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Action/Adventure, Adventure &amp; Romance, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Childhood Friends, Drama, Emotional/Mental Distress, Ethical Dilemmas, Family &amp; Friendship, M/M, Minor Skephalo, Mutual Pining, Original Universe, Other MCYT Personalities Will Appear, Pyrokinetic!Sapnap, Reflection of Social Issues, Slow Burn, Superhuman!Dream, Superpower Island School, Superpowers, Telekinetic!George</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 11:29:47</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>102,501</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28055343</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LightNS/pseuds/LightNS, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gra55/pseuds/NotGra55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You’re… not afraid?” His voice was barely a peep, shy gaze half-turning away but still watching him out of the corner of his eye. His hand instinctively reached for the pendant at his chest, tips of his finger grazing the crystal and ready to grasp it, somewhat afraid of the answer that would come next.</p><p>“Why would I be afraid? You’re like the coolest person I’ve met so far! Plus-” He poked his side, and George squeaked, jumping back from the ticklish sensation. “You’re so scrawny and small. I’d never be afraid of you!”</p><p>* * *</p><p>George never wanted to be <i>one of them.</i> But at eight years old, he discovered he was a Psychic and he was committed into a faraway island academy for Extramundanes. Despite the difficulty of making friends when even other super-powered classmates are afraid of you, George finds a tight-knit group of best friends who aren't afraid to stand up for him.</p><p>Yet with age comes his developing abilities, and as he grapples for control, the disappearance of one of his best friends leads George and his friends on a runaway road trip to rescue him. However, they fail to realize their true adversary is the threatening power searing inside one of their own.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound &amp; Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream &amp; GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Official Extramundane Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079474</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>552</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>858</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Welcome to AGE: Part I</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Special thanks to <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedemeter/pseuds/princedemeter"> Grav </a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat"> Winter </a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aenqa/pseuds/Aenqa"> Beck </a> (@princedemeter @yourlazykitkat and @aenqa on Tumblr) for being such amazing betas and great cheerleaders! Go check them out if you haven't, they're pretty amazing writers! Also a HUGE thank you to <a href="https://thal-chandra.tumblr.com/"> Thal </a> (@thal-chandra) for their BEAUTIFUL artwork!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A danger to society—it’s what they’d called him at eight years old.</p><p>Paper-white walls entrapped him in his cubic cell. He paced across the little space he had, frozen floor like hair-thin, ragged icicles on his soles. The cold, dry air rested against his skin unpleasantly, skin buzzing and ultra-sensitive to the vacuum closing in on him and sucking the air from his lungs.</p><p>Four cameras were set up in each corner, the red dots blinking every second. They observed him like a strange specimen under a microscope, recording even the slightest movement. The cylindrical light beams above him burned through his retinas, with not a single shadow in sight. Nowhere to hide. His hands trembled, thousands of microscopic ants creeping under his skin, aching to release the pent-up vigor swirling at his core.</p><p>There was no sound, and he would’ve believed his ears were faulty if it wasn’t for the only vent in the room turning on, a faint buzz suddenly discernable. The overwhelming scent of hospital made him want to puke, to throw up this newfound searing energy pumping through his veins.</p><p>George's eyes locked onto the boy with dark chestnut hair and chocolate eyes before him, the one who wore white pajamas and whose feet were barefoot. His fingers lightly came upon the glass inches from him, palm spreading against the boy’s opposing hand.</p><p>Why wasn’t he afraid of him? Everyone else was. Yet here he was, hands flushed against his, a thin veil of glass in between, mimicking his every move.</p><p>His breath hitched, and he stumbled backward, tripping over his feet and landing on the plush ground. His fingers failed to grip the material.</p><p>Was this boy the one he was supposed to fear?</p><p>The image on the glass faded away, replaced with the image of his parents clutching to each other’s arms, lines of tears on their cheeks. There was a man beside them. He wore a white coat and had specs that made his pupils huge. His mouth was moving, but he couldn’t hear him.</p><p>It must’ve been bad news, however, because his mother cupped her nose with both hands and she collapsed her weight onto his father’s as if they’d just found out their child was dead. Maybe he was. Maybe this was the heaven they spoke so fondly of. If so, heaven didn’t look very nice.</p><p>The doctor’s eyes landed on him—his gaze drowning in pity. The glass faded back to its original picture, the reflection he’d stared at every day of his life morphing into that of a stranger’s. He clutched his knees, burying his head in them with tears in his eyes and rocking back and forth to soothe his riled thoughts.</p><p>He hadn’t meant to do it. He wasn’t even sure how he had done it. But he remembered his teacher’s terror-stricken expression the moment the book he was staring at started floating in mid-air. He remembered the way his classmates yelped and backed away, pointing and muttering something about George being <em> one of them. </em></p><p>He hadn’t wanted to be one of them. But as soon as his teacher alerted the principal, his parents arrived in less than fifteen minutes, his mother sprinting toward him and embracing him, both arms tightly clenching around his locks and pushing his face into the softness of her winter coat. He didn’t understand what everyone was so afraid of. Even more so when his parents drove him to a far-away place from their house in London. The moment they arrived, his mother turned to him with a saddened smile.</p><p>
  <em> “We’re going to get you checked out, honey. It’s going to be okay. We’re going to fix you.” </em>
</p><p><em> Fix me? I don’t need fixing </em>, he’d thought.</p><p>The opening door snapped him back to reality. His parents approached him with hesitance, his mother’s trembling hand reaching to graze his cheek yet failing to do so. He craved her touch, and he almost reached forward to take it for himself, but the sheer dread in her eyes prevented him from moving.</p><p>“Baby… You’re going to be okay. Mommy and daddy have to go now, but these people, they’re going to take you to a safe place. You’ll learn to control your-” The words died at her throat. She forced a smile. “Your disorder there.”</p><p>His father kneeled to his height, his hands hovering over his arms. He unchained the crystal pendant around his neck, the one his grandmother had gifted him before she’d passed away, and he placed it around George’s neck. “This will protect you. You’re going to be alright. You’re strong. I believe you can get through this.”</p><p>That was the last he would see of them for a long time. Everything was blurry after that. The people in white coats escorted him to a plane, his wrists chained with two metal cuffs that pinched his skin like claws. They were on the air for hours until, finally, the lady next to him pointed out the cabin window.</p><p>George’s eyes went big when he saw it—the lonesome piece of land surrounded by a vastness of blue. Vegetation spread throughout, a mountain, and beaches all around, white birds flying above the hood of the trees. Their plane started its descent, and the lady offered a smile, the first genuine smile he received from them. It didn’t help unlodge the jagged rock stuck in his throat, even as he stared at the beautiful island before him.</p><p>“Welcome to AGE, George. Your new home.”</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>Even his own kind was terrified of George.</p><p>Despite sharing the same burden, the other kids avoided him at all costs, always turning the other direction when they saw him in the hallway or speaking with their friends with hushed murmurs. It was his new normal.</p><p>On his first day during supper, he had walked through the mess hall with his plate in hand, lips slightly quivering and holding onto his food like a life source. His eyes swept through the tables full of kids talking and laughing as they ate. A group of girls giggling amongst themselves as they watched one of the Pyromentals at the opposing table show off his fire bending skills. A teacher stomping toward the boy and slapping the back of his head, shouting something about powers being prohibited in the cafeteria. A pretty girl sitting by herself immersed in a novel in one of the far tables by the enormous windows displaying the lovely white beach in the distance.</p><p>When she noticed him staring, she offered a soft smile that made his ears go hot. He approached the table like a frightened rodent, muttering something like, “Is this seat taken?”</p><p>“No.” She smiled again, brown eyes beaming in the sunlight and a white flash of light reflected on her teeth. Then she scooted to the side, inviting him to sit by her. “What’s your name?”</p><p>“George.”</p><p>“I’m Maia!”</p><p>He smiled, and they ate silently for the first half of their meal, her novel sitting untouched by her plate. “You’re a first year, too?”</p><p>He nodded.</p><p>“This place is so cool, isn’t it!? It’s so pretty, and everybody has really cool powers! I saw one of the Bios run through an obstacle course like a ninja yesterday! I wish I could run that fast! But Elementals are so cool too! I even made friends with a water type yesterday! And I’m learning so much about my powers!” She cupped her hands, a beam of sunlight wrapping around them like an orb of pure gold. She looked up at him, brilliant wonder twinkling in her eyes, and his mouth gaped open with the same level of astonishment. “I’m a Photomental! Are you an Elemental too?”</p><p>He shook his head.</p><p>“What are you then? Wait, don’t tell me! Are you a shifter!? I love shifters!” </p><p>Her curious gaze watched him so intently he couldn’t help but blush at her interest, and he didn’t think before responding, “Psychic.”</p><p>She went silent, and George noticed the way her cheerful aura dissipated, the way the light around her fingers untangled. A nervous smile replaced her previous excited one.</p><p>“Oh,” she said. “Psychic..?” The way her voice trembled might as well have been a shaky dagger piercing his chest. He could take the bullying, the being made fun of, but the raw fear in her tone, the way she scooted away and slid her plate a little further, the way she nervously glanced at one of the teachers nearby like she was silently calling for help—it broke him. </p><p>He finished his food quickly, grabbing his plate and hurrying away without saying goodbye. Maia didn’t say anything, and after that, George started eating his meals by himself outside, in the hallways, or in the library, anywhere without people around.</p><p>Sometimes, he took classes with the other five Psychics in the school, but they were all older than him. Most of the time, he was in individualized learning settings. His counselor, Sarah, told him it was because young Psychics were too dangerous to study with the other kids. He couldn’t help the pang of envy whenever he saw kids in the lounge rooms working on projects and studying for their tests together, making friends.</p><p>His favorite teachers were the ones who didn’t treat him like a biohazard, the ones who at least attempted a smile and weren’t afraid to look over his shoulder as he took his tests. He hated the ones who placed his desk at the back of the classroom and taught him from a distance like he had some sort of deathly contagious disease.</p><p>Unlike the other kids, he avoided using his powers outside of class. While most of his classmates enjoyed showing off their skills, nobody was interested in watching George levitate stuff—if only for the unsteady movements and unpredictable aim of the objects. It scared him too, but Sarah said it was necessary to prevent accidents. One of his courses even focused on meditation to teach him to focus while harnessing his abilities.</p><p>For the most part, however, his first year at the Academy for Gifted Extramundanes wasn’t much different from his life back at home. When he wasn’t in his specialized classes, he was usually out in the garden by his favorite tree at the edge of the forest. His nose was buried in a book half the time.</p><p>He enjoyed immersing himself in these imaginary worlds full of fantasy creatures where abilities like his weren’t deemed a curse by society. Worlds where wizards mentored people like him and taught them how to gain control of their powers. A world where he could live a peaceful life by the prairie, where his powers would aid him in his daily life as opposed to weighing him down like two boulders attached at the shoulders.</p><p>He videocalled his parents a lot. He used the computers by the common area, and though they were always crowded with kids chatting away with their friends and family, they always mysteriously emptied when George got there.</p><p>When the picture would load up and the specks of light arranged into the familiar bodies he’d seen every day of his life, he would smile at their beaming faces. They always asked him about the island and how his classes were going. The only topic George was always excited to talk about were the new places he’d found in his free time exploring the premises of the academy or the latest book he was reading. The conversations always ended with the same question.</p><p>“Have you made any progress with your condition? Have they found a cure?”</p><p>His answer was always no, and he neglected telling his parents what his counselor told him when he asked.</p><p>
  <em> “George, you can’t be cured of your abilities. You have to learn to control and contain.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why don’t the other kids need to contain theirs?” Guilt enlaced his words, his knuckles pressing on the gem around his neck hard enough that any other mineral necklace would’ve shattered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Your powers are different. They're based on your thoughts and feelings. Our minds can be a little hectic sometimes, so you need to know how to levitate stuff without hurting anyone in case something triggers you. You also can’t use them outside of class so we don’t risk accidents.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> His mentor noticed the tears threatening to fall when she said that. She smiled and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, rubbing it lightly. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. There’s no reason to feel scared.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “When will I be able to study with the other kids?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Soon, George. Very soon.” </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>George was nine when he met him—the boy with the yellow eyes.</p><p>He had been comfortably reading his newest fantasy book under the shadow of his tree when he heard shuffling in the branches above him. At first, he thought it was a squirrel or a chipmunk. That was, until an upside down head hung down beside him, watching him with a spark of interest.</p><p>George almost jumped out of his skin, yelping and hitting his head against the trunk, his book flying out of his hands. The boy wheezed so loud he thought a tea kettle must be brewing nearby. He was suspended from one of the branches with a rope, both his feet and hands holding onto it like some sort of ninja. His medium-length hair hung down and shined the color of golden sand in the light of the sun.</p><p>He wore a creepy white smiley-face mask at the time. The boy let himself go, and George instinctively lunged forward to soften his fall until the kid back-flipped mid-air and landed on his feet unfazed.</p><p>“What are you doing?” He tilted his head as he chuckled at the sight of George sprawled down on the ground face down because he miscalculated his jump.</p><p>George scurried to his feet, coughing out bits of dirt. “Trying to soften your fall. How do you just jump off a tree like that!?”</p><p>“How do you just jump off a tree like that!” he teased, failing miserably at imitating his British accent. His tea-kettle wheezes made George smile. Though, he pretended he didn’t when the boy finally looked up from his breakout into laughter. “I’m Dream!”</p><p>“Dream? What kind of a name is that?”</p><p>“A fake one, duh!”</p><p>“What’s your real name?”</p><p>“Why do you want to know?” His voice had a tinge of suspicion, head intruding in George's personal bubble and examining him like he was hiding something. George stumbled back, his back hitting the tree trunk in attempts to put distance in between them.</p><p>“I was just curious. My name is George.”</p><p>“George.” He pronounced slowly, thinking about it before saying, “Better than Clay, I guess.” His eyes landed on the discarded book laying face down on the dirt. George’s eyes followed him as he picked it up. “Harry Potter… Isn’t this that century-old book series?”</p><p>George attempted to snatch the book from his hand, but the taller boy held it over him with a smirk, even standing on his tip-toes when George started jumping up to reach it. “Give it back!”</p><p>“Why are you reading a boring old book when everyone’s hanging out at the beach right now?”</p><p>“Why are you bothering me instead of hanging out with them?” he countered, crossing his arms and pouting as his eyes fixated on the book so far from his reach. At the slightest tremble of it, his eyes widened, losing his focus and glancing back at Dream to see if he’d noticed the book come to life in his hand, but he hadn’t. </p><p>Dream considered the question before tossing his book back which George clumsily caught and proceeded to hug like his life depended on it. “You’re more interesting.”</p><p>Then he plopped down beside the tree next to the spot George had been sitting on. He patted it, and George sat down, cautiously observing the blonde like he might jump at him at any second.</p><p>“Why are you wearing a mask?”</p><p>“It’s my superhero mask!”</p><p>“Superhero?”</p><p>“Yeah, you know, when we grow older!” His slightly crooked teeth reflected the sunlight. “We’re going to be superheroes like in those really old comic books! There’s this one spider dude who swings across the city using spider webs and helps people! I want to be like him one day!”</p><p>“I’ve never read them.”</p><p>“But you read Harry Potter?” Dream made a fake-gagging sound. </p><p>“Hey!” George frowned defensively, clutching the book on his hand and glancing down at the worn-down cover. “It’s a good series.”</p><p>“Whatever you say,” he chuckled. “So what’s your class? I’m Bio-E! You know, like Captain America? Or Slade!” He proudly announced with a huge beam, chest puffed like it was the best news in the world. George wished he could feel that way about his own powers.</p><p>He bit his lip, avoiding his persistent gaze, his eyes focused on the ground before him. If he told him, Dream would be afraid of him and walk away like everyone else did.</p><p>“Earth to George?”</p><p>“Are you sure you want to know?”</p><p>“Duh, idiot, that’s why I asked!” He wheezed again, his side leaning further into George, head almost resting at his shoulder. He was a touchy person, the polar opposite of George who found himself scooting away slightly. “So? What is it?”</p><p>“Psychic.”</p><p>Dream was silent for a moment, and George cringed, fingers curling into a rock, knowing the inevitable look of fear or disgust he’d sent him and the familiar quiver in his voice. But it never came. When he looked up, he could hardly believe what he saw.</p><p>His mask was off, hanging on the hook of his belt now, light freckles speckled across his nose and cheeks like flecks of paint, and his eyes—a fierce gold—huge and glittering with no trace of resentment or fear behind them. He almost looked… in awe?</p><p>“You’re a Psychic!? That’s insane! Can you fly!? Do you teleport!? I heard they can lift a huge crowd of people and fly them out of burning buildings!” </p><p>George found himself giggling, face tickling with warmth. A peculiar bout of confidence rose in him. “No, no, and no. I don’t do any of that. But I can-” He focused on the mask on his belt and raised his finger. It floated in the air in front of Dream’s face, albeit somewhat shakily, but still levitating.</p><p>Dream snatched it back and, with pure, unfiltered excitement, exclaimed, “Cooool!” </p><p>His confidence dissipated somewhat, replaced by apprehension. “You’re… not afraid?” His voice was barely a peep, shy gaze half-turning away but still watching him out of the corner of his eye. His hand instinctively reached for the pendant at his chest, tips of his finger grazing the crystal and ready to grasp it, somewhat afraid of the answer that would come next.</p><p>“Why would I be afraid?” He sounded genuinely confused. “You’re like the coolest person I’ve met so far! Plus-” He poked his side, and George squeaked, jumping back from the ticklish sensation. “You’re so scrawny and small. I’d never be afraid of you!”</p><p>“Hey!” His expression was anything but negative, however. And with the corners of his mouth upturned and his cheeks flushed, he said, “You’re the first person who hasn’t been scared to talk to me.”</p><p>“Those jerks are missing out then!” His crooked smile made George’s heart beat a little quicker, unbelieving of his words. The sentence that came next was the best he would ever hear. “We’re going to be great friends!” </p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>He was ten when he met the annoying pyromaniac without a mute button.</p><p>They were playing Manhunt, a game Dream had made up a few months prior. Dream swung from the branches above George as he scurried through the forest, tripping over a few loose roots and barely catching himself with his arms. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, heart hammering against his ribcage, trying to escape. His nostrils were burning as he breathed in with short spurts, mouth agape and exhaling loudly.</p><p>“Come here, George!” Dream was catching up. He could hear the rustling in the trees and the birds’ exasperated cawks from their interrupted naps. The leaves fell all around him, wood crunching mixed with his fast breathing as his feet led him through the gaps and over the boulders on instinct like a deer flees from a wolf.</p><p>The shriek he let out when he heard Dream’s feet hit the ground inches behind him echoed across the forest, alerting the wildlife miles away of the predator on the loose.</p><p>“<em> Oh, George! </em>”</p><p>George knew it was a matter of time before he was tackled. Dream was like a flash on his feet. His movements were swift and elegant as he dodged every obstacle in front of him. Meanwhile, George’s feet continuously got caught in the rocks and branches.</p><p>He exhaled when he spotted a flash of light at the edge of the forest line. He was so close to reaching the cobblestone wall by the dorm buildings, so close to the finish line. Just a few more steps. He used the large rock by his tree to propel him forward, gaining the slightest lead on Dream, which often proved to be useless.</p><p>“Use your powers, George! It’s the only way you’ll make it!”</p><p>“No!” The path to the wall came into vision between the bushes, and just as he was about to make an aggressive turn to the right, he ran full force into another standing body. Both boys groaned as they tumbled onto the grass.</p><p>“What the-” Eyes shut and his body stunned on the ground, he could only hear as the boy screeched like a wailing puppy and Dream shouted a few curses.</p><p>When he looked back, he realized Dream was hopping on one foot, struggling to get out of his green sweatshirt. The sweatshirt that was currently on fire.</p><p>George was so out of breath, he couldn’t even properly react to the hysterical scene taking place in front of him. Dream managed to throw the garment to the ground, leaving only his white shirt beneath, and stomp on it a few times before the flames died.</p><p>“Dude! I’m so sorry! You were just running at me with this scary face! I thought you were going to eat me or something!” the newcomer exclaimed between laughs, getting up and swiping the dirt and pebbles caught in the white bandana tied around his raven hair. </p><p>“Who do you think you are!? That was my favorite sweatshirt!” The voice sent a familiar panic through George, the one that came whenever somebody would ‘accidentally’ knock his books over in the hallway or whisper about them while they ate lunch in the grand hallway by the headmaster’s office. He called it Nightmare.</p><p>“Dream!” George stumbled to his feet, putting himself in between the two with his hands extended in front of him in case he had to push him back. He didn’t want to spend another day with Dream in detention for harassing a new kid. “It’s fine!”</p><p>“Yeah, bro, chill!” The boy laughed nervously, taking a step back. Dream snorted, somewhat indignantly, stopping in front of George and pulling a few stray twigs from the shorter’s head. George turned back to the boy, his cheeks heating up when he felt the back of Dream’s arm against his own as he took a step forward, almost shielding him.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>“Sapnap!” The lanky boy wearing a distinct t-shirt with a fire emblem printed on it introduced himself. “Uh, sorry about the sweatshirt, and, uh, almost killing you and all.”</p><p>Dream huffed. “Whatever. You couldn’t kill me if you tried!”</p><p>There was an awkward pause before George cleared his throat. “I’m George, and this is my best friend Dream.”</p><p>“Sweet! You have a nickname too?”</p><p>Dream snorted, crossing his arms and tilting his head slightly. “Yeah. Except mine doesn’t suck.”</p><p>“Mhm, sure.” Sapnap smirked, a daring glint in his eyes. “But it’s definitely better than yours!”</p><p>“Yours is dumb.”</p><p>“You’re dumb!”</p><p>“And you guys are giving me a headache,” George interrupted, rolling his eyes at the childish expressions they were exchanging.</p><p>“Do they not teach Elementals to control where they aim their crap?”</p><p>“Pfft! Typical Bios who think they’re all that!” His dark eyes traced Dream with distrust. “What are you two anyway? Enhanced or Shifters?”</p><p>“I’m Enhanced.” Dream’s glaring confidence didn’t fail to make Sapnap raise an eyebrow at the boy’s cocky tone.</p><p>“You sound like one.” His eyes landed on George, curious. “What are you?”</p><p>George rubbed his arm tensely, and he pursed his lips, unlocking their gazes. The longer he took to say something, the more curious Sapnap appeared to look. Dream’s arm encasing his shoulders and pulling him to his side took him somewhat by surprise. “George’s a Psychic!”</p><p>“Psychic?” The boy’s eyes widened somewhat, and George swallowed.</p><p>“Yeah. Got a problem?”</p><p>“Woah, dude.” Sapnap chuckled, palms up and fingers spread in defense. “Are you always this aggressive? I’m just surprised to meet a Psychic! Aren’t you all locked away in your own area?”</p><p>“Sometimes,” George admitted. “But they’re going to let me take classes with everyone else next year.”</p><p>“Cool! What year are you guys?”</p><p>“I’m second. George is a third-year. You?”</p><p>“First. This place is so weird, but like, in a good way! There are no parents! The view is epic! <em> And </em> we can use our powers without getting in trouble!” George winced at that, tips of his fingers tingling.</p><p>“Wow, so you’re a baby?”</p><p>“Dude!” Sapnap crossed his arms, but he smiled, regardless of Dream’s teasing. “What were you guys playing that George body-slammed me?”</p><p>“Manhunt, it was my turn to hunt, so I was supposed to catch George before he reached the Bio dorms.”</p><p>“Can’t you, like, fly or something?”</p><p>George’s shy shake of his head made Sapnap’s eyebrows crease together in a mix of surprise and confusion. “What can you do, then?”</p><p>“He makes objects fly,” Dream’s enthusiastic reply beat his quiet one. “Show him, George!”</p><p>He hesitated, but at the sight of Dream’s thrilled smile, he searched for an object on the ground nearby. Sapnap regarded George with interest as the boy focused on the small rock beside the bushes, swiped his finger, and it went flying across the hill uncontrollably.</p><p>“Woah! I wish I could do that!” Then he paused. “Actually, no, I like having fire powers!”</p><p>“Do you like burning people’s stuff with them too? Is that why your parents sent you here?” Dream laughed.</p><p> The awkward silence that followed made George shift uncomfortably on his spot. Sapnap’s gaze fell to the ground, a hand rubbing his arm and his shoulders slumping like the comment had struck a chord.</p><p>“Do you want to play with us?” Dream eventually asked, probably feeling bad for making him uncomfortable.</p><p>Sapnap’s face brightened instantly at the invitation, hopping forward on both feet as if ready to begin. “Dude, yes! Who’s hunting then?”</p><p>Dream glanced in between them before a sly smile took over. “How about you two hunt, and I run?”</p><p>“You sure you can take us both?” Sapnap stepped beside George, shouldering him softly as if to insinuate they were good at the game. Well, George wasn’t sure how good Sapnap was, but he certainly wasn’t the best at hunting Dream on his own.</p><p>Dream’s smile didn’t leave his face when he replied, “Bet.”</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“WOOOOO! GO DREAM!”</p><p>George winced, Sapnap’s scream in his ear nearly making his eardrums bleed. Bad, their older friend and the newest addition to what Dream had assuredly dubbed the Dream Team, settled down beside him.</p><p>“Is that... popcorn?” George scrunched his nose at the scent of overly-salted popcorn. He scooted uncomfortably forward on the metal bleacher, an odd sensation whirling inside his stomach. “Where did you even get that?”</p><p>“Geppy set up a popcorn stand,” he said with a big smile as he chomped down a handful of popcorn. George glanced over his shoulder and noticed the Aeromental on the side of the obstacle course field with a whole popcorn machine handing students paper bags in exchange for money.</p><p>One of their teachers was already stomping toward him, probably because buying and selling items on school premises was strictly prohibited. Not that Skeppy would ever care about following the rules. On the contrary, his hobby pertained to setting off the fire sprinklers when the Pyromentals were having their lessons at the activity center, swapping the Shifter’s specialized suits for fake ones that caused one too many streaking sessions, and who knows what other tricks he had up his sleeve. Once, he had even teamed up with Sapnap to start a bonfire in the garden at twelve in the morning and convinced a whole group of first years to join their ancient church and “offer their most prized possessions to summon the legendary Flying Spaghetti Monster,” whatever that meant. </p><p>“And you didn’t scold him for it?” George's dubious eyebrow raise caused Bad to freeze, chipmunk cheeks full with popcorn and blinking cluelessly at his friend. His glasses slowly descended on the bridge of his nose. Considering Bad was the kind to write lengthy apology letters explaining the Flying Spaghetti Monster was not actually a real god to every single first-year Skeppy and Sapnap managed to fool and offer muffins to the teachers to apologize for Skeppy recruiting some Aquamentals to set up a pool party in their classrooms, it surprised George that he hadn’t yet scolded Skeppy for his latest scheme.</p><p>“I haven’t eaten popcorn in weeks! The vending machines have been broken for over a month.”</p><p>“Mhm.” George lightly shook his head, releasing a quiet snort.</p><p>“Hand some over, Bad.” Sapnap’s sudden closeness beside him caused him to do a double take and nearly fall backward off his spot.</p><p>“Woah,” Sapnap steadied him with one hand while taking a handful of popcorn from Bad with the other. With his mouth full of popcorn, he said, “Formh a Psymchic youm havemh reallym badm balancemh.”</p><p>“Shut up.” George rolled his eyes, turning back to the expansive training field in front of him. </p><p>There were two grey paths where the obstacle courses would rise settled beside each other. At the end of each, there was a platform marked with a finish line. The ceiling of the stadium was open for the competition, sunbeams filling the arena with natural lighting. There was a pleasant spring breeze in the air tickling George’s skin. The excited chit-chatter from the students around them made his fingers tremble with energy, heart rate quickening and his stomach swirling with nervous thrill.</p><p>“There he is.” Sapnap pointed to the right.</p><p>Dream exited the stadium door dressed in his Bio-E suit, a black and lime long-sleeve costume with the crest of a silver ninja star at the belt. His mask was hooked at the hip. A few of the first and second-year girls in the front row went wild, squealing and raising posters with heart drawings and compliments written all over. Sapnap broke out into cheers next to him again, even louder than the girls. The boy in front of them sent them an odd look, and George shrugged, somewhat embarrassed at his friend’s over-enthusiasm.</p><p>However, George got over it as soon as Dream turned to the crowd, waving his hand and sporting his signature toothy half-grin. George raised his own poster over his head, joining Bad and Sapnap in their cheering for their best friend.</p><p>Dream’s eyes searched the crowd until they found his, and he waved extra excitedly at the sight of them.</p><p>On the other side of the stadium, the second Bio-E student emerged—a guy in the year above Dream with bright pink hair pulled back into a braid and a half-pig mask with two canines protruding at the ends atop his forehead. George wasn’t sure why all the Bio-E students were obsessed with masks, but it certainly made their competitions appear extra theatrical.</p><p>One of the guys in front of them stood up, waving his own poster as another chorus of cheers burst through the audience. The same fangirls in the front row cheered just as loudly for Techno as they did for Dream.</p><p>“Imagine being a simp!” Sapnap cackled, slapping his thigh and taking another handful of popcorn from Bad’s bag.</p><p>“Do you even have to imagine, Sapnap?”</p><p>“You’ve been simping for Dream before I even met y’all, so shut it.”</p><p>“Don’t fight, you muffin heads. Let’s just send all our good vibes to Dream!”</p><p>The guy in front of them snorted at that. Sapnap grimaced, and George felt a flame inside his stomach erupt. Before he could think to stop him, Sapnap exclaimed, “Dude! You got a problem with that?”</p><p> It took him a second to realize his words were directed at him, but when he did, the guy turned with a half-grin, twitching fox ears poking out of his head of ash-brown hair and a fedora sitting in between. “Techno is clearly going to kick Dream’s ass.”</p><p>“Oh, please. You don’t know what you’re talking about at all, you furry!”</p><p>“It’s Fundy for you.” He narrowed his eyes, taking a second to eye him up and down. “Aren’t you that arsonist boy who’s always burning plants in the building?”</p><p>Sapnap fumed at that, raising himself from his seat, but George’s hand at his shoulder kept him down. He huffed. “At least my powers are actually <em> useful </em>.”</p><p>Fundy let out an exaggerated laugh, slapping the spot beside him like he’d just heard the best joke in the world. The fire at George’s stomach grew more uncomfortable, and his grip on Sapnap’s shoulder tightened. They locked eyes, and Sapnap knew not to engage further.</p><p>“Everyone knows fire types are a joke. You guys are practically useless against a single bucket of water!”</p><p>Sapnap grimaced. “Oh, yeah? Well shifter types are-”</p><p>“Guys! It’s starting!” Bad elbowed George, completely unaware of the current tension in the air as he was too busy alternating between watching the two competitors on the field and Skeppy being scolded by one of the teacher’s below.</p><p>“Welcome to the annual Bio-Enhanced and Shifter Championship! We have many surprises set up for you all today, so I hope you’re excited to see them! Let’s give a round of applause for all our amazing competitors!”</p><p>Shouts and whistles erupted all across the bleachers surrounding the training grounds, a few groups even starting a wave that died off as soon as the woman’s cheery voice echoed across the stadium again. “Please stay in your seats during the duration of each performance and refrain from using any abilities outside of the training field, including but not limited to throwing fireballs at the contestants, flooding the seats, and/or setting off a tornado on the field.”</p><p>Sapnap snorted. “Skeppy outdid himself with that one.”</p><p>George shook his head at that, giggling lightly as he remembered the incident that took place last year when he and a few other air types set off a tornado that launched both contestants off the field mid-competition.</p><p>“And with that said, let’s introduce our first round of competitors for the day!” The three boys jumped up along with the crowd, raising their posters and throwing out cheers. Dream’s head turned to them, once more finding his eyes.</p><p>His intestines folded and squirmed inside his stomach, feeling the need to regurgitate his lunch. The sensation was foreign, coming on so abruptly George wondered if it was even his. He swallowed a rock at his throat, his esophagus burning at the sensation of it. It was gone as soon as Dream turned away and unhooked his half-mask, gently placing it over his face.</p><p>George’s shoulders tensed, his own nerves coming about. Was that… did he just… his powers?</p><p>Sapnap’s elbow to his stomach snapped him out of it.</p><p>“Ow! What the hell?” </p><p>“I asked you what you think Dream’s time will be, but you were too busy checking him out!”</p><p>His cheeks reddened. “I wasn’t checking him out!”</p><p>Sapnap’s eyes were unconvinced, and George was glad the spokesperson interrupted him before he could comment any further on the subject.</p><p>“On the left, looking like a daredevil with his savage pig mask and golden crown, we have our eighth year contestant, Technoblaaade!”</p><p>Sapnap huffed as the cheers erupted across the bleachers, including Fundy who let out a whistle and shouted, “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!” along with a few others around him.</p><p>“Is that really what the fox says?” he whispered in George’s ear, making him snort at the ridiculously old-timed joke.</p><p>“On the right, appearing a cunning jokester in his white mask and dashing looks, we have our seventh year contestant, Dreeeeam!”</p><p>“YESSS! GO DREAM!!!!”</p><p>“SHOW US WHAT YOU GOT YOU MUFFIN HEAD!”</p><p>George settled for a whistle and a huge beam as he stood up and clapped his hands. Dream’s smile widened below his mask as he set his eyes on the course before him.</p><p>“These two Bio-Enhanced students will compete in one of our more challenging parkour courses yet! The course will require the competitors to use their swiftness, quick-thinking, agility, and physical strength to reach the finish line in the shortest amount of time. Whoever wins gets to move onto the second round and potentially compete in the finals to see who takes this year’s crown!”</p><p>“Dream is going to kill it! I know he will!” said Sapnap.</p><p>“Don’t jinx it!” Bad scolded.</p><p>“With that, let’s take a look at this year's course!”</p><p>The ground opened and rose to reveal a series of obstacles leading to the end. There were three sections. The first had a series of hanging hoops leading to a bouldering wall angled toward the contestants. The second was a bar George assumed they were supposed to swing from toward a horizontal pole a few yards away. How they were supposed to land on a metal pole smaller than their feet, he could only wonder. The worst part? There was a wall beside it with metal spikes punching out at different levels at random. Finally, the third section included a huge wheel with a hole big enough to fit a person’s torso spinning at a semi-rapid pace. On the other side, there was a trampoline with three hanging ropes above it leading to the end platform a jump away. All across the bottom there was a pit of mud that if fallen into would instantly disqualify the contestant.</p><p>“We’ll give the contestants a few minutes to plan their strategies!”</p><p>“Woah, dude-” Sapnap’s words died at his throat, mouth agape in a similar manner to George’s.</p><p>“How are they going to get through that!?” Bad squeaked.</p><p>George’s eyes landed on Dream. Although the mask covered the majority of his face, George noticed his shoulders perched up and his fists repeatedly clenching and unclenching at his sides. The nervous swirl returned the moment his gaze focused on him, and it only confirmed George’s suspicions.</p><p>Although empathy was one of the possible Psychic abilities, his counselor had let him know most Psychics never reached that stage, possessing only telekinesis as their sole power. Telepathy was the next rare ability Psychics possessed, and George had only known of one telepath during his time in the whole school—a girl a few years older than him who had been sent away on his first year after she’d lost control, wrecking a classroom and almost killing a classmate.</p><p>His stomach churned, Dream’s anxiety mixing with his own. Sarah had told him it was unlikely he would ever develop an ability past telekinesis. They’d performed a test during his first year that was generally accurate in predicting the range of an Extramundane’s abilities, but George’s test had come out inconclusive. Sarah had told him it usually did when an EM’s energy levels were too low. She’d told him not to worry, that he’d probably be able to leave the island by sixteen (the age an EM’s abilities generally stopped growing) and live a normal life with his parents like he’d always wanted.</p><p>“Alright contestants, please head to the starting line. The race is about to begin. The fastest one to finish this course gets to move onto the second round.”</p><p>George could barely hear the screaming around him with all the panicked thoughts swarming his head. Beside him, Bad squealed as his bag popped and the popcorn spilled all over them. “What the muffin!?”</p><p>His gaze fell on Dream on the field, shoulders straight, front palm on the ground and his foot firmly rooted behind him ready to gain a head start. George’s breathing quickened, coming out in short bursts as he attempted to take in more oxygen. </p><p>“Three!”</p><p>The skin of his palms was numb, needles pricking the cold surface like he’d just touched an ice cube. His neck was the opposite, heavy with perspiration dripping into his back.</p><p>“Two!”</p><p>A spurt of adrenaline surged through his veins, making the muscles tighten all across his body like he was ready for impact.</p><p>“One!”</p><p>He couldn’t tell his emotions apart from Dream’s.</p><p>“George?”</p><p>“GO!”</p><p>The link broke at the sound of Sapnap’s voice, and George exhaled like he’d been under water, breathing agitated. Sapnap looked puzzled as he examined his friend. “You alright?”</p><p>George’s eyes landed on Dream who had reached the bouldering wall in less than thirty seconds, Techno doing the same. “Fine,” he replied out of breath, and it only confused Sapnap further.</p><p>Dream grasped onto the top ledge and pulled himself up like he was made of air, soles of his shoes gliding across the platform. In less than five seconds, he was off the ground again, arms reaching out and hands clutching the hoop above him. Techno was hot on his trail on his side of the course.</p><p>He swung a few times before releasing his grasp and barely landing on the pole, his back foot only half on it. While Techno was already working his way through the punching spikes, feet cautiously yet quickly moving in front of each other and jumping and ducking over and under the spikes as they came, Dream stopped.</p><p><em> What is he doing? </em> George’s eyes widened.</p><p>“He’s wasting time!” Sapnap said.</p><p>“Dream always has a plan,” Bad reassured him.</p><p>And a plan he had. He backed up a bit, presumably to gain some momentum, before dashing forward. However, instead of running through the spikes, his arms reached over his head and his torso bended, hands on the pole, feet lifting off the ground and doing a whole backflip until they propelled him onto one of the highest spikes. He used it to his advantage, hopping onto the spikes every time they came out and reaching the end of the second section a few seconds ahead of Techno.</p><p>“He’s insane!”</p><p>Dream waited for the hole on the wheel to come around again before surging through it like an arrow at full speed and using his hands to push him to his feet at the trampoline. Techno was barely moving through the wheel as Dream began to bounce upward and to the first rope.</p><p>Unfortunately for him, Techno managed some sort of momentum-driven backflip that helped him surge upward onto the rope with one hop. He was already halfway up the first and getting ready to grab the next.</p><p>Dream noticed his opponent nearing the end, and instead of grabbing the next rope, he began to swing briskly forward and backward.</p><p>“There’s no way he’ll make that jump. It’s way too far!”</p><p>“Shush, you muffin head! He’ll make it!”</p><p>George’s fists clenched, the swirling inside his stomach returning. Except he knew it wasn’t Dream’s this time.</p><p>Just as Techno reached the final rope, Dream released his grip on the first. He flew across the air toward the platform. Time froze, his body moving through the air in frames. George’s eyes moved along with him, and he was almost tempted to give him that extra push. But he didn’t.</p><p>Dream’s fingers gripped the edge of the platform. But one of his hands slipped. In a moment of panic, he was barely able to hold the weight of his body with one arm. He managed to lift himself high enough so his hand could grip the ledge again, and he pulled himself upward.</p><p> To his regret, in the time it’d taken Dream to grab the ledge with both hands, Techno was stepping onto it, running through the finish line and causing the crowd to go wild screaming his name.</p><p>“He lost…” Sapnap muttered, the three of them frozen as the people around them jumped and celebrated the winner.</p><p>Fundy looked over his shoulder, laughing hysterically.</p><p>George’s eyebrows scrunched together as he noticed the slight limp to Dream’s walk, the way his shoulders sagged forward and his chin lowered.</p><p>“Congratulations to our first winner of today, Technoblade!”</p><p>Techno and Dream descended the stairs at the end of the course, removed their masks, and shook hands briefly before heading to their respective exit doors. Dream clutched the mask at his side. His bangs and his lowered chin prevented George from seeing his expression but the waves of disappointment and rage radiating from him were easy to read.</p><p>He disappeared behind the stadium door, and George couldn’t help his own disappointment from settling in his gut.</p><p>“We should go find him,” Sapnap suggested.</p><p>“They won’t let us see him until the competition is over.” Bad shook his head. “Besides… maybe we should let him cool down a little.”</p><p>George’s mouth formed a flat line even as the next contestants walked out, the shouts around him turning into background noise.</p><p>The rest of the competition lasted an eternity. George was barely paying attention to it, but from what he gathered, Techno lost during the second round and some guy from year thirteen won the whole tournament.</p><p>The swarm of students scrambling to exit the stadium nearly drowned him, and he lost sight of Bad and Sapnap pretty quickly. When he did manage to get outside and gain a breath of fresh air, he searched the crowd for any familiar faces. A girl with two pigtails chatting away with her blonde friend, a teacher scolding one of the first-years for setting one of the trash cans on fire, the fox guy with the fedora walking with a familiar Bio-E with a pigmask in hand-</p><p>“Oh, hey! You’re that guy who was cheering for the smiley face dude the first round, right?” Fundy stepped in front of him before he could walk the other direction.</p><p>“Uh, yeah, Dream.” George glanced at the Techno who was watching him with curiosity. He shifted from one foot to the next and bit the inside of his lip, feeling seen under his gaze.</p><p>“Say, aren’t you that Psychic-boy from my year?”</p><p>“A Psychic?” Fundy look taken aback, and George swallowed.</p><p>“Yeah, I am. Have you, um, seen Dream?”</p><p>Techno snorted. “You mean the guy pretending he’s not moping around in the locker room about losing to me during the first round? Yeah, I have. Guy needs to learn to take a loss by the looks of it. I told him he did great, and he still looked angry about it. Can you believe that?”</p><p>“That’s Dream for you…” he muttered. “Uh, where’s the locker room?”</p><p>“Not sure if non-competitors are allowed in there.”</p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>“But the back door is propped open because some dumbass Bio-E broke the handle by trying to pull instead of push.” His chuckle was dry. “Though you didn’t hear that from me.”</p><p>George managed a shy smile. “Thanks.”</p><p>“See ya around, Psychic-boy.” Techno patted his shoulder as George headed back toward the stadium.</p><p>He snuck in through the back easily seeing as most of the staff was busy directing the students back to the main campus. It wasn’t until he was met with the long corridor that he realized he had no idea where the locker room was. He wandered through the building silently until he felt the slightest rumble in his stomach. He turned to the right, the muscles in his stomach growing progressively tighter and his ears catching the ugly scraping of teeth against teeth in his own mouth.</p><p>He opened the door at the end of the third hallway he’d turned to, one with the words ‘Locker Room’ imprinted above it.</p><p>Dream was sitting on one of the benches with his back to him, his elbows on his knees and the mop of hair that looked more brown than blonde under the dim lighting of the room shrouding his face.</p><p>The back of his mouth was stiff and his molars hurt from how tight they were against each other. He attempted to relax his shoulders despite the relentless stiffness in his tendons.</p><p>“Calm down, Dream,” he finally said, his hand reaching for his shoulder and massaging the back of his own neck to unwind. “You still did amazing. He only beat you by a few seconds.”</p><p>George’s heart flinched. Dream’s head jerked to the side. Their eyes met.</p><p>“You didn’t hear me come in?” George’s eyebrows furrowed, seeing as Dream relentlessly bragged about his meta-human hearing.</p><p>Dream’s shoulders relaxed, head looking back down at the ground. “No.”</p><p>George awkwardly stood there for a moment too long, drowning in the swamp of frustration, failure, and regret filling the room.</p><p>“You were great.”</p><p>“I lost.”</p><p>“So what?” George joined him on the bench, their shoulders touching as he sat down, and Dream’s shame further asphyxiated him, so much his breath hitched at the intensity of it. “That’s one loss out of how many wins?”</p><p>“I <em> lost </em>.”</p><p>“And?”</p><p>He didn’t say anything.</p><p>George bit his lip, grasping his fingers together and joining Dream in his view of the floor. “You’re not always going to win everything.”</p><p>“This was the most important competition of the year! Coach chose me for a reason!” The sharpness of his tone slit through George like a blade. If George’s morale could bleed, it’d be doing so now.</p><p>“I don’t get why you’re so angry. You can always compete next year.”</p><p>Dream jerked to his feet. “It was my chance to prove myself, George!”</p><p>George winced, catching his gaze—an ardent yellow stinging his eyes. “Prove yourself to who?”</p><p>He groaned, a hand swiping over his eyes in a frustrated manner.</p><p>“To who, Dream? To yourself? Why are you so insistent on being good at everything? It’s like you don’t even want to admit you have flaws! That you're not always going to be perfect using your powers!”</p><p>“I’m not supposed to be like you!”</p><p>The beating organ in his chest twisted, his own anger and hurt replacing Dream’s. He stood up.</p><p>“Wait, George, I didn’t-”</p><p>“I’ll let you cool down now.”</p><p>He let the door shut before Dream could think to pull him back.</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“I’m sorry,” were the first words Dream said when George found him waiting at their tree. George slumped down and leaned against the trunk, keeping a distance in between them. He let his fingers run through the pages of his latest fantasy novel.</p><p>“It’s fine.”</p><p>“It’s not.” Dream scooted toward him, close enough the back of their hands brushed against each other.</p><p>A boulder pulled at his chest, sinking his feet into the soil beneath him like the roots of a tree bury themselves in the Earth. He didn’t want to meet his eyes, afraid of the emotion weighing on him.</p><p>“I’m serious.” George’s nail scrapped at the loose root in between them. “I know you didn’t mean it.”</p><p>“That doesn’t make it right.”</p><p>George only nodded, pursing his lips tightly. It was uncomfortable—the unfiltered heart spilling out of Dream. He had always been an expressive person, but now, with George being able to sense every beat, to sink in his fervor, to <em> feel </em> him, it was intoxicating. Set off all kinds of alarms inside his head.</p><p>“George.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Look at me.”</p><p>“I- I’d rather not.”</p><p>“Why not?”</p><p>“Your emotions are too much.”</p><p>“My emo-” He could sense his confusion. “Your powers?”</p><p>George nodded.</p><p>“They’ve evolved?”</p><p>He nodded again.</p><p>“Have you told Sarah?”</p><p>“I haven’t had the time.”</p><p>“When?”</p><p>“Today during the competition. I could tell you were nervous.”</p><p>Dream snorted after a moment, slightly shaking his head. The weight on his chest lifted slowly, until George could breathe purely again. “Is that better?”</p><p>George finally turned, voice barely a breath of air as he asked, “What did you do?”</p><p>“A guy in my class asked Coach how we could block empaths after he found out what some Psychics could do, and we had a whole improvised lesson on it. Figured it could come in handy one day.” He smiled, a strand of his hair partially falling over one of his eyes. The sun was setting in the back, and his hair was slowly descending into an earthly shade.</p><p>George smiled. “Thanks. That actually helps a lot.”</p><p>“When are you telling her?”</p><p>“... I don’t know if I will…”</p><p>“Why wouldn’t you? Isn’t it dangerous if you don’t?”</p><p>“I was supposed to be out of here next year when I turned sixteen. My parents were so excited about it. But I guess that’s not gonna happen now.” He extended his legs, fingers scratching at the ground between them.</p><p>“It’s not all bad, at least… I’ll be here with you.”</p><p>“You’re staying?”</p><p>“Yeah. I want to stay until I graduate. My parents don’t mind.”</p><p>George shrugged. “Well, the difference is you get to go home and see them during breaks…”</p><p>“Maybe you’ll be able to eventually. When you get better.”</p><p>His voice cracked, an invisible object edging his throat. “But… What if I don’t? What if they send me away to another place, Dream?”</p><p>His reply came instantly. “They won’t.”</p><p>“How do you know that?”</p><p>“I believe in you.”</p><p>A warmth spread through his stomach, and he laughed. “That’s so cliche.”</p><p>Dream huffed, elbowing him. “What? It’s true!”</p><p>“Do you really?”</p><p>“Yeah, you’ve been getting better at levitating stuff, and you’re really good at not using your powers outside of class. I don’t know how. If I was you, I’d be using them to my advantage all the time!”</p><p>George rolled his eyes. In a comfortable silence, they watched as the blend of colors ceased in between the trees.</p><p>“Are you feeling better, now? About losing?”</p><p> “I guess. I was just-” Dream shrugged. “I don’t know. I really just am not used to losing, you know? It made me really angry because it was in front of half the school this time.”</p><p>“I understand.”</p><p>“You really think I did good, though?”</p><p>“Mhm.”</p><p>“Oh, <em> really </em> ?” His voice was teasing as he bumped their shoulders, his cocky aspect returning, and George rolled his eyes. “Like <em> how </em> good?”</p><p>“Good enough for you.”</p><p>“Admit it. You were <em> really </em> impressed!”</p><p>“I rate it a six out of ten. Max.”</p><p>“<em>Oh,</em> <em>come on</em>! You know I did better than that. Did you not see how I back-flipped through the middle part? I was practically a ninja! Been practicing that move for months!”</p><p>“It was alright.”</p><p>Dream wheezed, poking George on the stomach and making him flinch.</p><p>“Stop it!”</p><p>“Admit it!”</p><p>His threatening hands made George yelp out, “Fine! You did amazing!” before he could tickle him. “Happy now?”</p><p>“Very.” Dream chuckled. “You think Sapnap’s asleep right now?”</p><p>“Probably. He loves taking his afternoon naps just so he can stay awake to pull off his stupid jokes in the middle of the night with Skeppy.”</p><p>“Wanna go wake him up with a bucket of water?”</p><p>George smirked, pushing his current conundrum to the back of his head. “Let’s go!”</p><p>And for the first time that day, George decided to fully immerse himself in that moment as opposed to worrying about the implications of his developing powers. That could come later.</p><p>Right now, all he would focus on was laughing to Dream’s goofy grin as they broke into the janitor’s closet to steal a bucket, unaware of the unstable surge of energy waking in his mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Art by @thal-chandra</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>

</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>First things first, a disclaimer—this is an original universe that’s been in the works for over six years now, so please don't depict it in other stories without my permission, it'd make me very sad :(</p><p>With that out of the way, this is my biggest story yet that I have all outlined out, and it’s taken a lot of time and effort, so feedback, thoughts, theories, etc. are highly appreciated! I answer all my comments here, my Asks on my Tumblr, and any messages, so don’t be shy, I don’t bite!<br/>＼(^o^)／</p><p>This story will be updated weekly on Sundays around afternoon/evening CT, and if there’s any mishaps, delays, or announcements, they will be posted on my personal Tumblr <a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> @lightns881 </a>, so follow me there if you’d like (I post other stuff as well)! It’s going to be a novel-length story so strap yourselves in!</p><p>Thank you so much for reading! I can’t wait to embark on this journey, and I really hope you enjoyed the first chapter!</p><p>Mucho cariño,<br/>Light</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Welcome to AGE: Part II</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thanks again <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedemeter/pseuds/princedemeter"> Grav </a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat"> Winter </a> (@princedemeter and @yourlazykitkat) for being such great betas for this chapter! This story really wouldn’t be the same without y’all &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>George was seventeen when his worst fear came to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in his History course, an elbow on the table and a hand clutching his forehead while the other swung a pencil impatiently between his fingers. His sight was fixated on the paper in front of him: </span>
  <em>
    <span>Who was the spokesperson for the first Extramundane movement before court in 202x?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes traced the sentence repeatedly, words turning into a scramble game in his head. No matter how many times he read the question, his disordered thoughts obstructed any logical thinking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cough from across the room, the teacher’s expo market squeaking against the whiteboard, the girl in front of him continuously cracking her back against the chair, a boy mumbling a curse under his breath in the desk next to his, a thought that wasn’t his-</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Man, I really hope Mr. Fergunson curves the test.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked up so fast his neck popped. His eyes landed on the dark-haired girl in the front row, the one he’d had a crush on a few months back but he was too shy to start a conversation with. Her eyebrows were scrunched in concentration, bottom lip in between her front teeth as she circled another answer on her paper.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m totally going to fail this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Although the voice sounded like his own in his head, he knew it was hers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rushed through the test after that, struggling to concentrate on the answers he was putting down as every few minutes, another foreign thought would invade his mind. He was the first to turn it in, and the teacher gave him a skeptical glance as if to ask if he was sure which he responded to with a nervous smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George scrambled out of the room after that, clutching the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. He ran into Dream on the way to the exit of the classroom building. He was talking to two Bio-E’s from his year. When he saw him, his eyes lit up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George! You finished your test already? You wanna go grab a bite with us?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His best friend instantly noticed the way George scrubbed his eyes and forced a smile, evading his puzzled glance as he shuffled past and quietly responded, “Not right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, you okay?” Dream caught up to him, leaving behind his other friends and circling George’s wrist, his thumb tenderly grazing his skin in a comforting way that made his stomach rumble. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘m fine.” He pulled his arm back and continued down the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What aren’t you telling me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I said I’m fine, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t say anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George halted, squeezing his eyes shut and pursing his lips. The desolate hallway caved in on him like a frigid void yearning for a life source to consume. He could hardly think over the dizzying, incomprehensible chaos swarming his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You can hear me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your powers?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George faced him hesitantly, chin pointed down and eyes verging on tears as he peeked up at him. He didn’t need to respond for Dream to understand.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Dude! That’s hella cool! You’re never going to fail a test again!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap.” Bad warned, eyeing him skeptically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were sitting in the back couches of the empty library two hours before curfew. The old, blinking yellow lights barely dimmed the room. A whiff of dust and biblichor surrounded them in the presence of their history, images of ghosts hung all over the walls.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nobody ever went to this side of the library—full of aging history books and dusty news articles. They found out two years ago when Dream, Sapnap, and him had been messing around late at night, hiding from one of the prefects.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was leaning both elbows on his knees, his head rooted toward the ground. Dream was next to him, hand lightly on his back, his index finger gently swaying back and forth. He breathed in the soothing essence Dream radiated—the only thing keeping his mind at bay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t get it. Isn’t it pretty cool to be the only Psychic with telepathy in the school?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not that simple, Sapnap,” Bad explained, sighing as his eyes traced over George with concern. “Psychic powers are more delicate than other classes. That’s why they’re treated so carefully.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But if you treat them like they’re a freaking nuclear reactor, doesn’t that just make Psychics feel like sh-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap.” It was Dream who spoke up this time, and Sapnap shut his mouth. He wasn’t exactly spouting lies, however. George knew that. He knew it with all his heart and it chipped at his soul every waking moment. Every time strangers regarded him with</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> expression—like they were staring into the eyes of a monster. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their gazes centered on him. He exhaled, lifting his chin to peer out the window where the night was befalling. His throat was raspy and dry. “I need to tell her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You do,” Dream agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I don’t want to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He bit the inside of his mouth so hard he tasted metal. His nails dug into the crystal at his neck like they so desperately ached for it to shatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing, George. If you treat it like it is, it will be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad’s right. Look at the bright side, now you can really tell when Sapnap’s lying about </span>
  <em>
    <span>accidentally</span>
  </em>
  <span> burning one of your books.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George snorted, the faintest smile on his expression. “What if they put me back in individual learning? Or worse… what if they send me away like they did that telepath years ago?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you don’t tell her, it might prove to them you need it…” Dream said, tone hesitant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was quiet for a bit, Dream’s words seething in his mind. Behind his subconscious, a coldness binded itself to his most dreadful nightmare, toying with the possibility like a sick daydream meant for him to suffer. A part of him even entertained the idea wondering if it was what he ultimately deserved. He nearly choked at the thought, and he pushed it aside quickly, swallowing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.”</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>“This is unforeseen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence felt like a hydraulic press crushing every side of his ribcage. The longer it drew out, the more he felt his heart would combust on the spot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sarah leaned forward on her chair, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose and eyes tracing up from her notebook, scrutinizing him. “We have to take another test.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George clutched the gem with his fist, her stare too firm for him to handle. He could barely keep the tremor out of his voice. “What will you do with the results? If you find something out I mean. Are you going to send me somewhere else?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard her softly exhale and place the pen on her wooden clipboard. The daunting decisiveness of brass against wood echoed in his ears. “George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He met her indistinct gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have you heard of Aether?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question caught him completely off-guard. The name sounded vaguely familiar, passing references of a folktale thrown out by his history teachers over the years. However, nobody had ever truly explained what it meant, or if they did, he couldn’t recall. He clasped his hands together, nervously inspecting her countenance for any sort of answer. He found none.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not really.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She placed her clipboard on the table, crossing her legs and taking a sip of her tea. Her eyes glazed over when she turned away from him, scanning the portrait of their first headmaster on the wall beside them. Her lips were a thin line, and even with his empathy, George failed to read her emotions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Legend of Aether, one of the first Extramundanes who appeared almost a century and a half ago. The most powerful Psychic in history.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought she was a myth?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps.” She glossed over him and sighed, her finger tapping a sluggish beat against her thigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Back then, there was so much misinformation going around, so many conspiracy theories, details hidden by the government. In truth, we can’t be sure if she existed or not.” She gripped the handle of her cup gently, putting her face close and blowing a cloud of steam onto her glasses. She sipped the liquid for one moment too long. “One thing for certain is we know Psychics with her level of power aren’t out of the realm of reality.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you saying I-” His mouth was too dry to finish his sentence, alarm blaring in his mind but settling down at her explanation a moment later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, George. It is unlikely you have even a fraction of the kind of power Aether was said to possess. Our abilities were different back then.” She cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’ve heard of the Energy Hierarchy in your EM Biology course?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took a moment to think before answering, “The theory that Delta radiation is lost with every generation?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sarah nodded, calmly placing her cup on the table and leaning forward. “Delta radiation is vital to an Extramundane’s abilities. It’s why it powers us as opposed to harming us like it does to regular humans. However, every time an Extramundane has a child, that energy dilutes. It’s sort of like adding more water to a cup of tea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stirred a spoon in her mug, liquid rippling disturbed creases on the surface. “The more water added, the less sweetness you’ll taste. It’s why the Extramundanes of the past were the most powerful. Biological Shifters could morph into any creature. The Enhanced possessed superhuman strength and speed, more so than now. The evolution of an Elemental’s powers was normal.” Her eyes narrowed when they landed on him. “Psychics were the most powerful people to ever walk the earth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rolled his pendant between his fingers anxiously. “But what does this have to do with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her words were slow and cautious, each one excruciatingly daunting. “The reason I bring this topic up is because Aether was an extremely powerful and unstable Psychic. Unlike other classes, a Psychic’s energy comes directly from their mind. It’s why your class is so prone to danger and instability. They say her own demise came about from her failure to adapt to her level of power. In other words, Aether lost control because she gave into the fear of her own abilities and she let them conquer her mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The only way you would pose a true danger to yourself and everyone else is if you let your powers control you as opposed to learning to control them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pursed his lip, the tips of his fingers sizzling as he traced the outline of his pendant. “You say that like they have a life of their own.” His snicker was humourless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Once in a lifetime, they did. Now, we’re only dealing with the residue of that living energy inside us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George breathed out, letting go of his pendant and sternly pressing his palms against his lap, frowning decisively. “How am I supposed to learn to control them? Haven’t I done enough already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Acceptance is always the first step. Getting over your own fear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s sight fell on the cup of tea sitting in front of her, the way the liquid opened into circles from the faint rumble of her moving fan in the back. He clicked his tongue and swallowed. There was something morbidly comedic about their situation—the way Psychics were expected to be unafraid of their own abilities when everyone tiptoed around them like they were rabid animals on the verge of an attack. It didn’t help that Sarah was always so vague with her advice, often answering his doubts with more perplexing riddles. He felt like throwing up. “How do I do that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Patience.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded, jaw tightening and fists clenching. All she ever did was tell him it took time. The hum of her fan seized the air with his lack of response. It taunted him, reverberating against his skin in a frustrating manner. He was almost tempted to swipe his finger and slam it against the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes all it takes is an anchor during your darkest moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Visible confusion arose in his expression. “What does that mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a saying commonly paired with Aether’s legend.” She offered an obnoxiously unhelpful smile. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to throw out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dissected the phrase in his mind, attempting to extract any meaning from it. However, it appeared to be just another optimistic proverb made up by folklore passed down the ages. Useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll keep it in mind.” He got up, wiping his clammy palms on his jeans. “Can I go now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. I’ll let the nurse set up an appointment for your exam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He nodded and made his way to the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll see you next Sunday. Think about everything we talked about today, and we can pick up where we left off next time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” The door shut behind him, locking away the heaviness of her words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The following week, he received news his tests were inconclusive again. He wasn’t surprised.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Listen up, punks!” Mr. Harris, the Bio coach, shouted as the students arranged themselves in lines of their respective classes, George ending up by himself near the group of Photomentals. His physical abilities course was by far his least favorite, especially during days when the classes shared the training field.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Across the room, he spotted Dream talking to one of his peers in his own group, chuckling at something he said. Sapnap seemed to be in his own little world. Meanwhile, Bad was grouped with the Aquamentals, failing to understand the faces Skeppy was making at him from a few rows away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although the course was heavily catered toward Bio types, every so often, the other classes would participate with them, seeing as it was the only way to encourage physical activity among the other students. For the most part though, Elementals trained in courses catered toward their type—Pyromentals in heat-suppressing fireproof rooms, Geomentals in outdoor fields and greenhouses, and so on. Meanwhile, Psychics in training were confined to extra secure underground facilities far from the other classes, often stuck inside white rooms with cameras at every corner. George despised it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “One of you convinced me to include an activity you’ve always wanted to do!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we finally opening up an island and setting up a petting zoo with all the Bio-S students?” Skeppy shouted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A chorus of laughter from everyone but the Bio-S group, led by a certain grumpy fox-hybrid at the start of the line, echoed through the indoor gym. One girl from the Pyromentals added, “Might as well add in gardening services with the Geos.” A few of the kids from the Geomentals argued back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Settle down, kids.” Everyone quieted down as soon as Mr. Harris used his losing-his-patience tone. He marched in front of him with his hands behind his back, scrutinizing the leads of each row with an intimidating gaze that made every student stand up a little straight. “Today we’re having some sparring matches between different classes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chit-chatter erupted among the groups considering sparring matches between classes had been discontinued decades prior. George was glad he had a better grip on his empathy. Otherwise, he couldn’t image all the emotions charging at him at this moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that allowed?” someone asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The headmaster has given me the thumbs up for this exercise, so no need to worry about getting in trouble.” He scanned the groups, searching for a suitable victim. “I want to start with Techno today.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Blood for the Blood God!” a few of the Techno simps threw out some cheers and whistles as he stepped forward, looking mostly unfazed. One of the girls shouted, “Put him up against Dream!” and the whole class began to chant the blonde’s name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed coyly and began to make his way toward the Coach until he said, “No.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The whole class went silent. Dream’s bewilderment was evident as he backed up again. Mr. Harris traced the line of students, many of them looking like deer in the headlights. Techno, along with Dream, was known to be brutal in his sparring matches and fighting against either proved to be a death sentence in the making (or at least a lengthy trip to the nurses’ office).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The coach’s eyes landed on him. His stomach sank. “George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confused whispers and murmurs spread throughout the class, a lot of them involving some variant of ‘I feel bad for him.’ Sapnap and Bad both regarded him with concern. Dream’s face was mostly unreadable, a rare sight for George to catch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Coach… I, um, don’t really do sparring,” he explained as he joined Techno in the front of  the class.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a Psychic, are you not, kid?” The Coach was unbothered, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, but Psychics aren't supposed to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then it’s settled. I want to see what a Psychic can do against a Bio-E. Go ahead. Step onto the ramp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno was the first to move, George following very hesitantly. “Don’t worry, Psychic-boy. I won’t go easy on ya for the Coach’s sake, but I’ll try not to do any permanent damage,” he whispered as they walked up the stairs to the circular ramp.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Reassuring…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they reached their spots, invisible, specialized field barriers rose around them for the safety of the spectators.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know the rules. No rough play. No killing or harming any major organs. All powers allowed. First one to knock the other off the ramp for more than three seconds wins.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You got this, George!” Sapnap shouted and clapped, joined by a few others.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Technoblaaaade!” Fundy countered, and the majority of the class backed him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped at opposing ends of the circle. Techno stood tall and confident directly in front of George whose own expression looked like a fish out of water. A vortex opened up in his mind, thoughts coming through from every direction.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not now</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, I feel bad for him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Three!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s totally gonna get his ass kicked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Two!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Techno’s going to wipe the ground with him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“One!”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Poor guy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno bolted toward him, the eyes of a devil staring straight through him. George was barely able to evade the first punch, but his feet were locked to the ground and he didn’t notice when the pink-haired beast swiped his leg under him and knocked him down. He gasped, rolling to the side before Techno could pull him out of the circle.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Can’t he just use his powers? What a loser!</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George barely managed to avoid every hit coming toward him from above. He continuously crawled backward until he finally stumbled to his feet. Despite what he’d told him, he could tell Techno was somewhat holding back. He could barely keep up with the direction he was aiming his punches and kicks. Techno’s limbs moved like a hummingbird’s wings. His braid swayed from side-to-side to the beat of his strikes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How did the Coach even expect him to match up against this guy? He had never been fond of Mr. Harris, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>knew</span>
  </em>
  <span> the man had especially grown to dislike him for no reason, but he didn’t realize his hate ranged this far.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If I was a Psychic, I’d be doing so much better than this guy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His expression scrunched up, both in concentration and fear. Techno’s fist connected with his shoulder in that second and knocked him down again, breath escaping him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Stop holding back, Techno!” Mr. Harris demanded, clapping his hands loudly as he circled the ramp and monitored the fight with sick amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bastard.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s so done for.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I hope the nurse is free right now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He might as well just give up now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Come on, George. You can do this.</span>
  </em>
  
</p><p>
  <span>The thought caught him by surprise, and he narrowly managed to duck away from Techno’s grasp. For a split second, he caught sight of two yellow eyes fixated on him in the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Concentrate, George. Don’t let him tire you out. Catch him by surprise.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno aimed another punch, and instead of just ducking this time, George caught his arm and pulled it behind him. Considering all he’d been doing up to this point was defense, the action caught Techno off-guard.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’s going to knock you backwards off the ramp.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Before Techno could push him backwards with all of his might, George let go and the guy lost his balance, falling on his back with a grunt, inches away from the boundary.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Impressive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Use your powers. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going easy on you at first. But since you seem to be hiding something up your sleeve...” In the time it took George to realize it, Techno had already spun on the ground and caught George’s ankle, bringing him down with a slam.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Use your powers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno hopped to his feet and hooked onto both ankles, pulling him toward the boundary.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s the only way you’re going to win.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno turned them over, ready to launch him off the ramp.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George! </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>But Techno didn’t expect the sudden invisible force swiping under his feet, causing him to lose his balance and pushing him off the ramp. George lowered his hand and let his head hit the ground as he caught his breath, the ceiling lights multiplying above him and the thumping in his ears becoming evident. It took a second for everyone to recuperate from their shock before they began their incessant cheering, Sapnap being the first to shout his name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Techno’s head appeared above him, and he almost flinched away on instinct, but his classmate laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down.” He helped him to his feet. “Well done. I can’t say I expected that from you. You put on a good fight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“T-thanks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Off the ramp, boys!” Coach called, and both students turned to the class, catching many beams and whistles from the crowd. Techno chuckled dryly, patting him on the shoulder, and George offered a shy wave to the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He noticed Dream in the front row, arms crossed and sporting the faintest of smiles. They locked eyes, and in his stomach, a nail scraped against his gut. It was gone in an instant—turned off and his emotions were his own again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s get off before Coach blows a fuse.” George noticed the sharpness of Mr. Harris’ glare. As he walked off, he shook his hand, the man’s grip squeezing his hand like it was trying to break it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good job, kid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded and unlatched his hand, massaging it gently as he made his way toward his spot. His eyes caught onto Dream’s faintly before turning away again, unsure of what to think.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt Dream on rare occasions when his friend’s emotions were too intense he couldn’t block them out or when he intentionally lowered his mind block. Dream was the only one George really had trouble blocking out if it wasn’t for his willingness to do so. Sometimes he had issues blocking off his other friends, but it had never been as difficult as it was with Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, the sensation he’d felt moments prior wasn’t familiar to Dream. But it was familiar to him. It didn’t happen all the time, but every so often, it came to him—whenever Dream would laugh a little too hard at Sapnap’s joke or when he passed on their plans in favor of helping out Bad with something or even sometimes when a girl caught Dream’s attention in the hallway while in a conversation with him. He never let himself dwell on it for too long, often dismissing it to the back of his mind and busying himself with other thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>From the spectrum of colors in Dream’s head, green (ironically his favorite color) was never one he’d encountered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George! You did amazing!” Bad snuck over to him while Mr. Harris was busy directing two other students onto the platform. “I’m so proud of you!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you really kicked his ass. Not even Dream managed that last time they competed.” Sapnap chuckled, coming up next to George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Beginner's luck,” Dream said, though with a teasing smile as he approached them. “Awesome job.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream’s just jelly you beat Techno before him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot.” Dream swiped a strand of his hair off his forehead dismissively. “We’ve only been put against each other once and that was when I was like fourteen.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still a loss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, George?” Bad tilted his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look a little out of it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips, limply shrugging his shoulders and massaging the side of his arm. “That fight really just took it out of me, I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aw, maybe you need some rest you little muffin head.” Bad placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll be out of here soon and you can take a nap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The students around them burst into cheers again, and they turned to see a Bio-S in the middle of shifting back to his human form and raising his arms victoriously in the air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should go back to our groups before Coach catches us and makes us do laps,” Bad muttered, backing away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smiled at the three of them, his eyes locking onto Dream’s a little longer than the other two. Dream stood there for a moment, looking like he wanted to say something.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something wrong, Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” His smile was forced. “Never better! Catch you later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He locked onto his head of hair as he retreated, intentionally trying to get inside his mind but finding the barrier harder to pull down than usual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned away, pushing the bizarre split in their link to the back of his mind, no matter how heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he reassured himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s fine. Normal friends keep things from each other all the time. There’s nothing wrong with that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t help the seed of doubt blooming within him.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>A few months after turning eighteen, George could have never predicted the most dangerous adventure of his life would begin with the words: “I need you to help me carry seventy-two boxes of thin crust pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both Sapnap and George were taken aback by Skeppy’s greeting statement when he ran into them in the hallway after class, his hair spiked up in many directions (more so than usual) and half his face caked in white powder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” George asked, wondering if he’d just heard wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys need to help me take seventy-two pizzas from the kitchen into Bad’s dorm.” His tone was the most serious George had ever heard from him since they’d met.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why?” It was Sapnap’s turn to ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy groaned, running a frustrated hand through his hair. “Look, will you guys help me or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay…” George answered hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to involve himself in the situation but deciding he had nothing better to do anyway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perfect!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s exactly where it started.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re telling me you spent a whole night baking all of these pizzas!?” Sapnap placed the last few boxes on the ground in front of Bad’s room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More or less. One of the cooks helped me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How is this even a prank?” George added, a little too loudly it seemed, because Skeppy quickly hushed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s Bad’s nap time,” he said when the two exchanged a confused look. “And Bad hates thin crust pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t he just… throw it away?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy smirked. “He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hates</span>
  </em>
  <span> wasting food even more than he hates eating thin crust pizza.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, well, dude... Are you just going to leave it here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to-” He placed a little note above the pizza boxes directly in front of the door. “And then-” He knocked on the door. “Run!” He hurriedly forced them toward the corner of the hallway to hide behind a couple of potted plants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They settled behind the plant, all three of their heads poking out to watch the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get your armpit off my head!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get your head off my armpit!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up!” Skeppy whisper-yelled, focusing his sight on the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Any second now…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhhh… maybe he didn’t hear it?” Sapnap suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy sighed, dashing toward the door and knocking again, louder this time, before rushing back to take cover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here we go,” he said, widening his grin and rubbing his palms like a mad-genius.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure he’s there?” George finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad never misses naptime!” Skeppy headed for the door, trying the doorknob and finding it was unlocked. The three glanced at each other before walking in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?” George asked when they opened the door. The blinds and black curtains were open, Saturday afternoon sunlight spilling through and illuminating the tiny dorm room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bad’s bed was neatly made, his decorative pillows not a millimeter crooked. There was a picture frame on his bed stand with a selfie of Skeppy and Bad. It looked blurred and out of focus, probably taken by surprise with Bad reaching for the camera with comically wide eyes and Skeppy smiling like a dufus. Several motivational posters hung around the room reading things like, “It’s going to be a good day today!” and “Make sure to smile!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh no…” Skeppy said when he approached the bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know right.” Sapnap’s nostrils scrunched up. “Blueberry muffin-scented air freshener?” He put a finger inside his mouth and gagged. “Disgusting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, not that! Look!” He pointed at the bed in horror.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George blinked. “Yeah, a clean and empty bed. What a disgrace!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude!” Sapnap elbowed him. “Maybe he was abducted by aliens! Or worse, he turned into yet another victim of the flying spaghetti monster!” He exaggeratedly fell to his knees, pretending he had just lost the battle of the century. “The horror!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George cackled, slapping the back of his head. “Stop being an idiot! It was obviously the boogeyman! Remember that time he came to us crying saying he’d almost been dragged under his bed? I think it came true this time!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both of them burst into hysterical laughter, practically shedding tears as they brought up the various ridiculous scenarios in which Bad could’ve been abducted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is serious! Horsey’s gone!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Horsey?” Sapnap managed between laughs. “Who the hell is Horsey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad’s stuffed animal! He </span>
  <em>
    <span>never </span>
  </em>
  <span>takes that thing off his bed unless he’s leaving for break!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? Maybe he left early? Exams are done and some people are leaving early for summer break.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sucks that I’ll be stuck here by myself, bored as hell,” George complained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh suck it up! We already video call you almost every day and play Minebuild together all the time! Admit it, would you even leave your house even if you were home?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pouted. “It’d be nice to be out in the real world for the first time in a decade.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad never leaves without saying goodbye,” Skeppy muttered as he put his hand on the bed with a distant and pensive gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap patted his back, letting out a seemingly understanding sigh and opening his mouth like he was about to give him some encouraging words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sucks to suck.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap!” George smacked him on the shoulder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy crossed his arms, ignoring Sapnap’s comment and examining the bed skeptically. “This doesn’t make any sense.” He dashed toward Bad’s closet and opened it, finding all of his clothing was still neatly hung up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t take his stuff?” George furrowed his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy opened up a few of his drawers and found the same.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s weird,” Sapnap added, joking tone faltering. “Why would he just leave his stuff behind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He didn’t!” Skeppy jerked around, running both hands through his hair in a panic. “He’s gone missing!”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I honestly can’t thank y’all enough for all the support! I won’t go into as much detail here as I went in my thank you note on Tumblr, but I seriously didn’t expect the kind of response I received, much less for a story that blurs the lines between fanfiction and original. Y’all have no idea how much this really means to me. I’ve cried way too much this week alone from all your wonderful comments and support, and my best friends are probably tired of me rambling for hours over Skype about how happy I feel!</p><p>This universe is so near and dear to my heart and to know a lot of y’all loved the world-building in my story means I’ve done my job as a writer. I appreciate each and every one of you, and I hope you’re enjoying the story! We’re about to kick off into high gear!<br/>Again, your comments and Asks make this so unbelievably rewarding, so let me know what you think, whether on here or on either of my Tumblr blogs<a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> @lightns881 </a>or<a href="https://lightnswrites.tumblr.com/"> @lightnswrites </a>!</p><p>Muchos abrazos,<br/>Light</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Operation: Mission Not Possible</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is obviously brought to you by my fantastic betas <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedemeter/pseuds/princedemeter"> Grav </a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat"> Winter </a>! What would I do without y'all? If you haven't read Grav's <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27149602/chapters/66302254"> the still point </a> yet, what are you even doing with your life? Go read both their stories!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Okay. I need you guys to calm down,” Dream repeated, holding his training staff in his armpit and extending both palms in front of him. He was still in his black and lime training suit as they all stood outside the stadium. They’d just caught up to him a few minutes after he’d gotten out of training, all out of breath and mumbling incoherently. “One at a time, please.”</p><p>“Bad’s gone!” Skeppy screeched.</p><p>“What do you mean gone?”</p><p>“As in gone! Abra-cadabra, he just went poof!” It was Sapnap’s turn to yell.</p><p>Dream blinked cluelessly. “Okay, Sappitus Nappitus… Are you guys sure you looked all around campus?” He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, poking his staff on the ground and resting both hands on one end.</p><p>“Of course we did! Do you think we’d be freaking out if we didn’t!?” said Skeppy.</p><p>He directed his gaze at George who seemed to be the calmest of the bunch, appearing more confused than panicked. “George?”</p><p>“I don’t know… I-” He struggled to find the proper words, his tongue somewhat dry and still trying to articulate his thoughts. “It’s weird.”</p><p>“What do you mean it’s weird?”</p><p>“I’m usually pretty good at detecting your presences near but we walked all around campus and I just… felt nothing. He’s just gone.”</p><p>“You’re sure his parents didn’t just pick him up?”</p><p>“His clothes are still here and Horsey’s gone!” Skeppy replied with terror.</p><p>“Horsey?” Dream arched an eyebrow before shaking his head dismissively and putting on a serious expression. “Okay, look, first things first, you guys need to take a deep breath.”</p><p>Skeppy and Sapnap both inhaled a really exaggerated and long breath while George stood on his spot awkwardly rocking on his heels.</p><p>“Breathe out.” They exhaled.</p><p>“Okay.” Dream nodded, raising his staff between his arms again. “Let’s go talk to the headmaster and see what he tells us. This is probably all just a big misunderstanding.”</p><p>Turns out, it wasn’t a misunderstanding after all.</p><p>“Yes, Bad and a few of your other classmates were removed from the island early this morning,” the headmaster informed them as he scrolled through some of his cabinet files in a nonchalant manner.</p><p>“Removed!?” Sapnap sounded horrified.</p><p>“What do you mean removed?” Skeppy and Dream asked simultaneously, one sounding a lot more panicked than the other.</p><p>“Removed.” The headmaster got comfortable in his chair and eyed the four boys who were all at varying levels of alarm. He put on his spectacles and opened his manilla folder, scanning something on the page like there weren't four panicked and confused students seeking his help right in front of him. “Your classmates were infected with a very contagious illness, and we had to transport them immediately to a facility off the island.”</p><p>“Where!?”</p><p>“When is he coming back?” </p><p>“Is he okay!?”</p><p>“Calm down, boys.” He sighed, scratching his beard. “I’m afraid I cannot answer any of those questions at the moment. All the information on the case is classified.”</p><p>“But we need to know that our friend is okay.” Dream approached his desk, placing both palms on his desk and watching the man with a half-threatening glare. The headmaster narrowed his eyes, alternating glances between his hands and eyes, clearly unhappy with the boy’s impertinence.</p><p>“Dream…” George spoke softly, putting a concerned hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“This is bullshit! I demand we know what’s going on right now!” Skeppy joined him in slamming the desk.</p><p>The headmaster was taken aback for a second before he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms and staring up at them decidedly. “You are in no position to be making demands.” His calm tone turned more stern. “I suggest you go calm down and wait for further news. My hands are tied, boys. I can’t tell you anything right now.”</p><p>“But you have to know something!” Sapnap added, more desperately than threateningly.</p><p>The headmaster locked eyes with him. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>George examined his expression and let his aura spiral around him, linking him in. It was faint. He was admittedly very good at keeping his emotions straight, but he sensed the slightest bit of hesitation and worry and most of all—dishonesty.</p><p>His hand slipping off Dream’s shoulder when he pulled back broke the link, and the headmaster met his gaze, narrowing his eyes further, aware of what George had just done. “I suggest you all leave right now.”</p><p>“We won’t leave until you tell us something,” Skeppy demanded as he crossed his arms, rooted firmling on his spot.</p><p>“Now,” he warned.</p><p>Dream met George’s eyes, and their silent conversation was enough for Dream to intervene. “Let’s go, Skeppy. It’s fine.”</p><p>“What do you mean? It’s not fi-”</p><p>“Let’s. Go.” Dream grabbed him by the arm and yanked him toward the door, followed by Sapnap and him. George caught the headmaster blankly staring at the back of his head when he turned to shut the door.</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“What is it?” Dream asked George as soon as they reached their usual corner of the library and made sure nobody was around to hear them.</p><p>“He was lying,” George explained, slumping down on the couch. He tapped his fingers on his thigh nervously as he contemplated the situation. “I don’t know which part, but he’s hiding something. He’s worried.”</p><p>“Worried? There wouldn’t be anything to be worried about if it wasn’t serious, no?” Sapnap perked with concern, taking the spot next to George.</p><p>“See? We need to go back in there and demand he tells us the truth!” Skeppy exclaimed, emphasizing each word with a point of his finger.</p><p>“No.” Dream paced in front of them, one of his arms crossed and a pensive thumb at his lip. He sounded conflicted when he said,  “If we do that, we risk him not telling us anything and keeping an eye on us.”</p><p>“But we can’t just keep our arms crossed! What if Bad’s in danger!?”</p><p>“We won’t.” He stopped, exhaling loudly and facing them. “We need to figure out what they know in secret. If he says the students were sick with something, the nurses should know about it, no?”</p><p>“So what? We steal their health records or something?” suggested Sapnap.</p><p>“You’re a genius! That is exactly what we should do!” Dream started pacing again, invisible gears turning inside his head as he formulated a plan. “While George and I do that, you and Skeppy search this place and find out if there’s any records of this <em> illness </em>,” he finished his sentence with air quotes.</p><p>“Why do you guys get to go all Mission Not Possible and we have to sit here reading books?” Sapnap pouted, referencing the newest reboot of the Mission Impossible series.</p><p>“George’s Psychic and I’m Bio-E. Do you need a better explanation than that?” Dream rolled his eyes, and Sapnap huffed before hesitantly joining Skeppy who was already swiping through old newspapers.</p><p>“I have a bad feeling about this…” George muttered as they made their way to the exit.</p><p>“It’ll be fine. We’ll get in and out really quick.”</p><p>“No, not about just this, about everything.” He instinctively toyed with the gem at his neck. There was a tension on his shoulders, expanding down his back and across his abdomen like a tight cord running through all his bones slowly winding. He looked over his shoulder as they wandered down the desolate hallway, expecting to see a shadow trailing close. The only shadow he saw was his own.</p><p>“It’ll be fine. Just… let’s calm down,” Dream assured him, though his voice shuddered near the end.</p><p>When they got to the clinic on the first floor of the main building, they snuck inside the janitor’s closet and peaked through the door, spying on the two nurses in the reception desk who were mindlessly chatting and typing on their computers.</p><p>“How are we supposed to get to that computer without them noticing?”</p><p>“Hold on, I’m thinking!” Dream shushed him, watching attentively as one of them stood up and refilled her coffee cup. She continued talking animatedly with the woman at the computer, waiting for her cup to fill. “Knock over the cup.”</p><p>“What!?”</p><p>“Knock it her way!”</p><p>“Why!?”</p><p>“Just do it!”</p><p>George exhaled, rolling his eyes and concentrating on the cup. He swiped his index finger to the left, the force pushing the cup off the coffee maker and spilling it all over her uniform.</p><p>She yelped, the glass mug shattering as it crashed on the ground. She cursed, stumbling over her words before rushing out of the room, presumably to the restroom down the hallway to get cleaned up.</p><p>“Okay. I’m going to distract her. You’re going to get in that system, find Bad’s record and print it out. Got it?”</p><p>George swallowed, nervously replying, “Got it.” </p><p>Dream cleared his throat and then walked into the nurses’ office casually, a grin extending across his expression. George waited next to the door, listening in.</p><p>“Jenna! Good to see you! How’s everything?”</p><p>“Dream, careful with the puddle!” Her heels clicked on the marble floor, getting closer. “We had a little accident.”</p><p>“I can see that. Hey, I was just-” He went silent.</p><p>“Dream? Are you okay?” She sounded concerned.</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, I just-” Another pause. “I’m feeling a bit dizzy is all. I think I went a little too hard during practice. But I think I’ll just go eat something, it might fix it.” A puff of air. A chuckle. The squeaking of his shoes toward the door. One of Dream’s fortes was acting, though not in the usual theatrical performance type (he was horrible at that). He was an expert at deception and bluffing, twirling people around his finger and manipulating them without a single ounce of suspicion.</p><p>Her heels clicked once more. “Here, why don’t we get you checked out real quick? Just to make sure nothing’s wrong.”</p><p>“No, seriously, I should be-”</p><p>“Excuses! Come inside,” she insisted, clicking her tongue in disapproval. The door shut. His cue.</p><p>George hurried inside, sneakers nearly sliding across the puddle of coffee on the ground and almost sending him tumbling down but his hands gripped the desk before he could. He took a breath and got behind the computer. His hands trembled as he clicked on the mouse, thanking whatever gods for the screen being unlocked. He clicked through the apps, finding one that looked promising and began typing Bad’s full name.</p><p>
  <em> D-*-</em>
</p><p>Something crashed inside the room, and George barely had enough time to duck before the door opened and Jenna walked out. “Ow, hold on! I think I sprained my ankle getting off the bed!”</p><p>“Sprained your ankle?” She laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, boy! I need to get back to-”</p><p>“Ooooowwww!” he whined. “Pleaseeeee? Coach is going to <em> kill me </em> if I sprained my ankle before playoff season!”</p><p>Jenna sighed, turning on her heel. “Let’s take a look at it.”</p><p>George released a heavy exhale when he heard the door shut again, and he peeked out from under the desk. Finding the office empty, he finished typing Bad’s name. His record popped up instantly, and he smiled widely as he scrolled down toward the print button.</p><p>
  <em> Year of Birth: 2140 </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Blood Type: O- </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Approval for Project Delta-Z? Confirmed </em>
</p><p>“Project Delta-Z?” he whispered.</p><p>Jenna’s shout from the other room snapped him out of it. “Dream! If you don’t stop squirming, I’ll twist your ankle myself! Do they not teach the Bios how to sit still for one second!?”</p><p>“We can’t help that most of us have ADHD!”</p><p>He pressed the print button. The machine turned on, releasing a few beeps and crackles before it began to spit out inches of the paper. Jenna’s heels hurriedly clicked in the other room.</p><p>“WAIT! Are you sure it’s nothing!? What if it’s internal bleeding!? What if I’m DYING doc!?”</p><p>His eyes glanced in between the printer and the door nervously.</p><p>“Don’t be silly, boy!”</p><p>The doorknob twisted.</p><p>“ARE YOU SURE!?”</p><p>The printer shot out the last sheet of paper, and George barely managed to click off the app.</p><p>“Positive,” Jenna replied as she opened the door. She froze when she found George standing in front of it with his hands behind his back and sweating profusely, a deer in the headlights expression on his face. “George?” She examined him questioningly.</p><p>“Jenna.” He offered an awkward and nervous smile.</p><p>“Do you need something?”</p><p>“Uhhh…”</p><p>“Didn’t you say you forgot when your next appointment with Sarah was?” Dream answered, slipping beside him oh-so casually.</p><p>“Yeah!” George’s eyes alternated rapidly between Jenna and Dream as he backed away slowly, clutching the sheets of paper with both hands. “When is it, again?”</p><p>“Tomorrow?” She raised an eyebrow.</p><p>Dream hooked an arm around his shoulders and turned them slowly, following the direction Jenna was walking so she couldn’t see George was holding something behind him. They looked like a pair of awkward shuffling penguins glued at the hip. “Sounds great! Ready to go, George?”</p><p>“Y-yeah!” He let out a nervous laugh.</p><p>“Perfect! Hope you have a great day, Jenna!”</p><p>With that, they turned, George pulling the papers in front of him carefully and stumbling out of the clinic with Dream.</p><p>“Boys…” the woman whispered under her breath before getting back to her work.</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“Did you find it?” Skeppy asked as soon as they joined them at the library. The table was covered with yellow and worn-out newspaper clippings and 21st century magazine titles.</p><p>George raised Bad’s file in his hand.</p><p>“Pog!” Sapnap lifted both arms in triumph. “What does it say?”</p><p>“There’s nothing about any recent tests taken or any abnormal things found during his last check-up,” Dream replied, leaning on the table and skimming over everything on it. He glanced back up at them, his mouth a thin line. “But he’s been marked off for something called Project Delta-Z.”</p><p>“Project Delta-Z?” </p><p>“I don’t know about y’all, but that’s the weirdest name for an illness I’ve ever heard,” Sapnap added, suspicious fingers caressing his chin.</p><p>“Is there anything you found out about weird school programs like that in the past?” George asked, picking up a newspaper clipping from 202x that read, <em> Escaped Psychic Kills Police Officer Protecting Young Boy </em>.</p><p>“Actually.” Skeppy swiped through some of the magazines on the table and took out one, scrolling through it hurriedly. “I read something that might help.” He placed it in front of him.</p><p>“W<em> endy Reyes funds a private academy for young Extramundanes in an island off the Caribbean Coast </em>,” Sapnap read. “Dude! We already know that, what does that have to do with Project Delta-whatever?”</p><p>“Not that, stupid!” Skeppy rolled his eyes, pointing his finger at a line near the middle. “<em> Rumors have been circulating about the creation of a government-run program for the students enrolled. Headmaster Reyes prohibited the government from intervening with the creation of any program. She had this to say about it: “I will not jeopardize the safety of my students in favor of government-run lab-rat programs like the one my friends and I suffered through.” Any information about AGE has now been closed off to the public to maintain the privacy of its students. </em>”</p><p>“I don’t think I’ve ever heard any of the history teachers talk about this,” George said, skimming through the rest of the article which threw out wild speculations and conspiracy theories about Extramundane human weapons and an overthrow of the government.</p><p>“They’ve told us our founding headmaster didn’t want the government involved at all, and as far as I know, they never have been,” said Dream.</p><p>“Could that have changed? This new headmaster has only been around for, what, like seven years?” Sapnap posed.</p><p>“I don’t think we should assume.” Dream shook his head, taking a deep breath and stepping back from the table. “Let’s keep looking through and see if we find anything else.”</p><p>“But we’re wasting time!” Skeppy insisted, slapping his palms on the table, face twisted with ruthless determination. George winced at his overwhelming alarm mixing with his own worry for Bad.</p><p>“Then what do you suggest we do?”</p><p>“I don’t know, raid the Headmaster’s office? He has to be hiding something!”</p><p>“No.” Dream shook his head, running his hands through his hair. George could sense the tiniest bit of panic spilling out of Dream, too, indicating his mind block was starting to crumble, and he was a lot more worried about the situation than he was letting on. “Not yet. If we don’t find anything else out by tomorrow evening. We’ll consider it.”</p><p>Skeppy shoved a few of the papers off the table in frustration before lowering his head and nodding slowly, strands of his hair shourding his desperate grimace. “Fine.”</p><p>George kneeled down to pick up a ripped magazine page in front of him. <em> Out-of-Control Psychic Fugitive Continues to Cause Chaos All Across the Country </em>. In the back of his mind, a thought tugged at him, riling his nerves and causing his bottom lip to tremble ever-so-slightly.</p><p>“George?”</p><p>“Huh?” His eyes met Dream’s, who was now in front of him, looking down with an unreadable face.</p><p>“I asked if you could help me search the school records for any missing or removed students.”</p><p>“Oh… Yeah.”</p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p>The invisible cord constricting his insides trembled, and his knees wobbled for a second. He clutched the chair nearest to him, nails digging into the threads. He wasn’t sure what was affecting him so much about the situation. They weren’t even sure if anything menacing was going on, but for some reason, his gut had this overpowering need to run away. To hide and never look back like they were heading into a calm before a ruthless storm. His jaw tensed.</p><p>Dream placed a hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay. We’ll find him.”</p><p>George could only nod.</p><p>After hours of searching, well after the library had closed, they found absolutely nothing. They had flashlights set up around their area considering the lights had been turned off long ago. Besides that, the only other lighting came from the half-moon peeking through the glass ceiling.</p><p>“We should call it a night,” Dream finally suggested as him and George finished scrolling through their seventh school record book.</p><p>“I can keep going,” Skeppy muttered as he swiped through another newspaper. A stack of probably a few other dozen newspapers was piled on the ground beside him.</p><p>“We can’t be here all night. We can pick up where we left tomorrow,” suggested Sapnap. He already looked exhausted, shoulders slumped and faint bags under his eyes, his bandana crooked on his unkempt hair.</p><p>Skeppy groaned and threw the newspaper on the ground before cupping his face with his hands. His distress pressed so heavy against George’s shoulders and chest, he could hardly look at him. Dream seemed to notice.</p><p>“Skeppy. We’re all tired and worried. We won’t get anything productive done like this. George is starting to feel the effects of it too, and that’s not going to help any of us if he starts unintentionally projecting. Let’s go to sleep, and we can continue tomorrow.”</p><p>Skeppy took a second to respond, but when he did, it came out as a quiet mumble, so unlike the usually energetic persona he took on. “Okay.”</p><p>Once they put most of the useless stuff away, leaving only the important documents on the table, they headed out of the library with the spare key Dream had stolen years ago and split off at the end of the hallway. Skeppy and Sapnap headed for the Elemental dorms which were on the opposing side of the building while Dream and George headed toward the Bio and Psychic dorms.</p><p>They moved slowly and without a word, neither bothering to rush the little time they had left of the night together. The white moonlight poured from the windows next to them and cast their shadows on the wall as they made their way down the barren hallway, footsteps resounding on the marble tiles. The air was frigid and lonesome, an eerie and soundless atmosphere opening up George’s mind to all kinds of anxious thoughts. About where Bad could be right now. About the headmaster’s dishonesty. About the uneasy presence stalking him ever since they found out Bad was missing.</p><p>Halfway down the hallway, when they were near the headmaster’s office, Dream froze. George stopped a few feet ahead, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at his friend who appeared heavily focused on something.</p><p>“Are you-” He didn’t have time to finish his sentence as, in a split second, Dream pinned him to one of the bricked pillars facing the windows. He couldn’t help the crimson color from rushing to his face. He opened his mouth, but Dream seemed to predict what he was about to do and he placed a hand over it before he could say a word.</p><p>“Someone’s coming.” The warmth of his breathy murmur on his ear and the abnormally high heat of his body (which seemed to be a recurring trait among Bios) caused his face to turn an even darker shade of tomato-red.</p><p>The Headmaster’s office door burst open, and two voices emerged.</p><p>“I approved this project because I thought the program would be here! I demand you bring them all back at once!”</p><p>“With all your respect, Headmaster O’Connor, we signed a contract. But don’t worry. The students are well taken care of. They’ll come back when the program ends without even a single bruise.”</p><p>“I am going against every school regulation set in place. If even one student is hurt or worse-”</p><p>“I assure you, O’Connor, the new facility in Washington is state-of-the-art.”</p><p>“Washington!?” The furious quiver in his tone caused George to shiver himself, and Dream glanced down, their noses nearly brushing, his face masked with concern. George nodded his head as if to say he was fine. Dream’s gaze softened and he looked away, focusing on the conversation again. George had a little trouble concentrating with the way Dream’s body pressed against him, his hand unlatching from his mouth and instinctively resting at his waist.</p><p>“You had the nerve to take them to a Washington facility after everything!?”</p><p>“They’re safe,” the man stated, tone firm. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be back in Seattle by tomorrow morning.”</p><p>“Harris!” Their voices faded down the hallway.</p><p>It took a minute too long for the two boys to finally realize the intimate position they were still holding after the Headmaster and the mysterious man were long gone. Dream jerked back, unhooking his hands from George’s waist and hitting the pillar behind him.</p><p>“Ow!” He massaged his funny bone.</p><p>George covered up his own embarrassment with a snort. “Idiot.” He turned away before the moonlight could reveal how colored his face had gotten.</p><p>“What are we going to do?” It was rare hearing Dream sound so lost, and George couldn’t help the unsettling emotion washing over him.</p><p>George pursed his lips, the uncomfortable cord stiffening every muscle in his body returning at full force. The headmaster’s words were a jumbled mess in his head, questions and worries hitting him from every direction. All he knew for certain was that Bad was in trouble. He could’ve been crying himself to sleep in a glass cell at this moment for all they knew.</p><p>He didn’t deserve this. Out of all the people in this school and his life, Bad had always been one of the gentlest and sweetest ones, even before people started warming up to George and realizing he didn’t intend to attack them. Along with Sapnap and Dream, he was his best friend. They couldn’t leave him behind, but, at the same time, there was no way they could do anything to save him on the island, especially when even the bastard Headmaster didn’t have the guts to bring his own students back.</p><p>“I don’t know.”</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>His dreams spoke to him that night.</p><p>A vast darkness was all he could see, stretching all across his vision, the sensation of two eyes watching him intently from the abyss growing with every breath. A spine-chilling murmur echoed in the back of his head, one he couldn’t quite make out. But he could feel it: the shivers crawling on his skin like a herd of daddy long leg babies exploding on his back.</p><p>Then a flash—one of Dream wheezing next to him as they looked out into a green prairie, the swirl of warm colors mixing like a vivid canvas in the horizon. Yellow. Orange. Pink. Red. Even though he didn’t know what they looked like, he could see them all. Sense their warmth.</p><p>And another of Sapnap—he was elbowing him in the gut on the hood of a car, the endless sky of stars and the galaxy surrounding them in a desert-looking area he wasn’t familiar with. He had never seen so many of them, splotches of white dots taking over every corner of his vision.</p><p>And then both of them, lying on the ground, a puddle of red all around them and covering the entirety of their clothes. Dream’s expression facing him, a lifeless, wide gaze of pure and unfiltered fear.</p><p>His own body was full of red. All over him. His hands. His arms. No matter how hard he scrubbed, it wouldn’t go away. His vision turned bloody.</p><p>And laughter.</p><p>Cold, murderous, evil laughter.</p><p><em> His </em> laughter.</p><p>He woke up hyperventilating, his heart bursting through his ears. He managed to get off the bed, feet entangled in the sheets causing him to crash on the ground. He crawled to his trashcan and let his emotions spill through his mouth until his throat burned and his eyes itched.</p><p>The feeling of being watched didn’t leave him for the rest of that morning.</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“We have to go to Seattle.” </p><p>“How are we supposed to just outright leave? With no plan whatsoever?” Dream answered Skeppy with an exasperated sigh.</p><p>“We do have a plan. It’s going to Seattle and saving Bad.”</p><p>“That’s not a plan.” Dream buried his hands in his locks, turning away from them and facing up in desperation. George could tell he was losing his patience, not only with Skeppy but with himself too. Dream had always been the kind of person to expect everything to go his way—to plan every single detail to his favor. And when things didn’t do that, when an abrupt bump on the road set him off course, his frustration came easy and hard. Those moments made it hard for George to block him out, and he hated them as much as Dream did.</p><p>“I don’t know… I want to save Bad as much as you do, Skeppy, but it doesn’t sound like a good idea.” Even Sapnap sounded unsure. And Sapnap was always for bad ideas.</p><p>“If you really want to save Bad, the only way to do that is if we go to Seattle.”</p><p>Dreadful silence weighed on the four of them. The serene library environment morphed into an ambience of forlorn intent, making his gut queasy.</p><p>Sapnap stood firmly, releasing a loud groan. “We don’t have another plan, Dream. Maybe he’s right…”</p><p>“We are <em> not </em> going to Seattle. End of story.” He didn’t turn, kept his voice stern and certain. George couldn’t read him.</p><p>“Fine. If you want to stay here doing nothing to save your friend, it’s <em> fine </em>. But we’re going to go save Bad,” Skeppy snapped, his eyes landing on George next. “George? Whose side are you on?”</p><p>George glanced between Skeppy and the back of Dream’s head. He felt like throwing up again, but he swallowed it down. His fists clenched next to him.</p><p>“Leave him alone,” Dream replied, finally turning to them. “Look. Let’s think about this logically. Say we do make a trip to Seattle. What are we going to do when we get there? We don’t exactly have a map, do we?”</p><p>“There’s a map of the old facility in one of these books,” Skeppy replied as he searched their yesterday mess.</p><p>“How do you know that’s going to help us?”</p><p>“It’s our only lead.”</p><p>“Even if we do find it. How are we supposed to let him out? How do we know they won’t be able to just take us in, too?”</p><p>“If we work together, they won’t be able to. Especially if they’re all just government officials and workers without powers.”</p><p>Dream wiped his face in frustration before both his arms fell limp at his sides. “Skeppy. There’s so much that could go wrong with this plan. Do you realize that?”</p><p>“And there’s so much that could go wrong if we don’t save Bad!” He slammed his hands on the table, desperation taking over his voice. George had heard that tremble before. In his mother’s voice when she’d found out she’d have to send her only son to an island for an oppressed population. When she’d found out he was part of the most dangerous class of them. When she’d found out that in his lifetime, he’d likely be killed, would turn into a killer himself, or end up locked in a cell.</p><p>“Skeppy, it’s-”</p><p>“What would you do if it was George missing, huh?”</p><p>Dream’s shoulders tensed, and his sentence faltered, completely taken aback by the unexpected question. George shifted in his spot, staring at the ground and biting his lip hard.</p><p>“Thought so.” Skeppy continued searching through the pages. “We’re going.”</p><p>“I- I need some fresh air…” George managed, and he didn’t wait for an answer before rushing out of the library.</p><p>His head was swarmed with all kinds of thoughts, sensations, memories, and emotions, and he didn’t realize he was standing at their tree until he was. He approached the trunk, ran his fingers over the carvings on the wood they’d written when they were ten.</p><p><em> This tree belongs to D + G </em>.</p><p>“Cheesy,” a familiar voice chuckled behind him.</p><p>George let his fingers drop off the wood, pursing his lips and regarding it dejectedly. “We were kids. What could you expect from us…”</p><p>Dream sat down on the ground beside him, and George followed suit soon after, one hand gripping the soil and the other his pendant.</p><p>“This is a bad idea,” Dream said after a minute of sitting in silence staring at the celeste giant above the canopy of trees. The air was hot on George’s nostrils, summer heat blanketing his face like an oven. He didn’t realize he was sweating until a drop of it rolled down his forehead.</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>“We can’t let him go through with it.”</p><p>The uncomfortable cord-winding through his muscles resumed, and George squeezed his eyes shut, wishing it would just go away—this tension gripping at every side of him, this shadow sticking to him like a parasite. This pressing herald of something malevolent waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. He wanted to bury himself in the earth and let it swallow him whole.</p><p>“Maybe not.”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>“Maybe it’s what we have to do.” George opened his eyes and faced him. For the first time, he looked more confident than Dream did at that second.</p><p>Dream’s murky yellow eyes bore deeply into his own. “There’s so much that could go wrong.”</p><p>“That’s true.”</p><p>“You still want to go?”</p><p>“No. But I’d do it for Bad.”</p><p>“I would too…”</p><p>“Then why are you so against the idea?”</p><p>Dream turned away, audibly swallowing. He didn’t say anything, but a wave of concern phased through him, drowning him whole. George skipped a breath, and it was gone a second later.</p><p>“If you’re so worried about Bad, why don’t you want to go?” George repeated.</p><p>“It’s not him I’m worried about right now.” They locked eyes again.</p><p>His mouth was dry. “Why me?” George’s words were barely a breeze, not fully comprehending the meaning behind the emotion despite Dream’s unyielding heart wholly open in his chest for him to feel.</p><p>He snorted, fumbling with a sapling blossoming beside him. “You haven’t been in the real world since you were eight, George. Why wouldn’t I be worried about you?”</p><p>George breathed out, voice flat when he asked, “You want me to stay?”</p><p>“You won’t even if I asked.”</p><p>“You’re right.” George’s gaze fell to the ground. “I’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Will you?”</p><p>“You said you believed in me, didn’t you? Long ago.”</p><p>“I do. But…”</p><p>“But what?”</p><p>Dream exhaled softly, and it wasn’t long before George realized he was laughing. It ticked him off. “What’s so funny?” he said in a crabby tone.</p><p>Shrugging his shoulders, Dream’s eyes gleamed lightly when they gazed at him, a weak smile on display. “Nothing. It’s just… I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so determined, and me so… hesitant, I guess. Usually it’s the opposite.”</p><p>“Yeah…” A shadow of a smile played out on George’s face after his aggravation wore down. “I guess.”</p><p>“Okay, George.”</p><p>“Okay, what?” George glanced up at him. Dream wasn’t looking at him though. His eyes were centered on the line above the trees in the distance, the sun rays making the yellow in his irises twinkle of hope like tiny flashlights.</p><p>“Let’s go save Bad.”</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p> “The headmaster mentioned you went to see him yesterday.”</p><p>George leaned back on his chair, pose relaxed and gaze firm as he stared at her with his hands sternly pressed on his lap. “We did.”</p><p>The fan rumbled its uneasy hum, curtains behind her desk wavering ever-so-slightly. Her coffee sat cold and untouched on the table beside her. She inclined forward, glasses sliding slightly on the bridge of her nose and a grim gaze fixated on him.</p><p>“You and your friends?”</p><p>“We wanted to know where our friend was.”</p><p>“Bad, right?” Sarah jotted a few notes on her notebook and finally took a sip of her coffee. The room was dimmer than usual, dark curtains drawn closed and only a sliver of natural light peeking through. It smelled of lavender air freshener, different from the usual cinnamon scent she liked.</p><p>“He’s missing.”</p><p>“The headmaster let me know he was sick. I believe he told you?”</p><p>“He’s <em> missing </em>,” he repeated, more carefully, like she didn’t hear him the first time. But she did. His gut felt like it was twisting at her negligence of the situation.</p><p>“Is something wrong, George? You seem more…” She narrowed her eyes. <em> Aggressive </em>. “Tense.”</p><p>“My friend is missing and the headmaster’s doing nothing about it.”</p><p>“We don’t know he’s missing. The clinic informed us he got sick, along with a few of your other classmates. There’s no conspiracy going on if that’s what you think,” she clarified like it was a fact. Like she wasn’t lying straight to his face and pretending everything was perfect as it was.</p><p>George bit his tongue hard and said nothing.</p><p>“What I recommend is you take a few days to unload. I can tell this situation is stressing you, and it’s in your best interest if you don’t aggravate your-”</p><p>“My friend is missing and you want me to <em> unload </em>!?” He jumped up, fists clenched at his sides, eyes glaring lasers. A wave of heat circled him.</p><p>Sarah looked stunned. It was the first time George had ever raised his voice like that, especially to an authoritative figure. Her tone turned more stern. “You need to calm down. If you don’t, your powers-”</p><p>“Did you not hear what I said!?” He stomped toward the door, fingers gripping the knob.</p><p>“George.” He stopped, but he didn’t look at her. He was too furious to grant her that privilege. She sighed. “Have you been having any recent... difficulties handling your emotions? Any trouble with negative ones in specific? Maybe <em> nightmares </em>, too?”</p><p>He gripped the handle, wishing he could rip it off the door and throw it at her head. But he didn’t. He gritted his teeth and took a breath. “My emotions are fine.” </p><p>“Are you sure?”</p><p>“I am.”</p><p>“I don’t suggest you try anything risky these next few days.” She knew. “Not with the way your abilities appear to be affecting you.”</p><p>She knew and she wasn’t going to do anything about it.</p><p>“I’m fine.”</p><p>“It could lead down a dangerous path.”</p><p>“My abilities are <em> fine </em>.”</p><p>“So, for your own well-being, I think you should let your friend’s situation resolve on its own time. You’re not in the best condition to handle precarious situations, especially if you’ve been struggling with control. Even the slightest stressor could set you off.” Her words rung like knives scraping his ears.</p><p>George bit his lip. Hard. Wetness trailed down his chin. The cord snapped, and a flood of pure rage assaulted his head. “I won’t.”</p><p>He left without another word, the door slamming shut behind him on its own.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em><a href="https://thal-chandra.tumblr.com/">@Thal-chandra</a> on Tumblr did some beautiful fan art of George I wanted to share :) Thank you so much Thal! You're the best! &lt;3</em>
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  <em>Go check them out! :)</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y’all are so awesome, thanks so much for all the support! I hope y’all’s holiday season goes fantastic! Wishing you the best! &lt;3</p><p>Next chapter we’ll finally be headed to the road (well ocean to begin with but something like that) so stay tuned, it’s about to pick up. Let me know your thoughts in the comments, I love to read them! :D</p><p>Mis mejores deseos,<br/>Light</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Sail to Puerto Rico</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedemeter/pseuds/princedemeter"> Grav </a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat"> Winter </a> are only some of the best writers in this fandom and I can’t believe they’re taking the time to beta for me so you should probably go follow and check them out!</p><p>Also, big news, you probably noticed a pretty new name next to mine right below the title, and I’m honestly still having a hard time believing it because I’ve never had anyone help me to this extent with my writing in my life, much less someone as amazing as them so everyone please welcome <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gra55/pseuds/Gra55"> Gra55 </a> as my chief editor!</p><p>Grass (<a href="https://extragrassydetails.tumblr.com/">@extragrassydetails </a> on Tumblr) is the editor and serial extra-detail-includer for Like Magic and Georgenotfound, Son of Poseidon, and the League of Minor Gods, both which are among the BEST dnf/mcyt fantasy AUs in the fandom that I’ve been a fan of for months now, and they were so kind so as to offer to help me with this story because as they so gracefully put it “Dude, you've been doing all of this WITHOUT having someone to vomit the plot to?!!!! Oh you poor thing, please, I'm here for you”</p><p>They’re using up their precious time and skills to help make this story not a mess because I was carrying it on my back by myself and it was starting to crumble, so please, go subscribe, check out their works, follow them, and thank them! They’re one of the best individuals I’ve had the pleasure of meeting in the mcyt writers community!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The island wasn’t as hot as other summer days. The afternoon sun was partly covered by the clouds flying past every few minutes, the sky behind them a sparkling azure. A gentle breeze soothed George’s skin, his breaths coming in smooth and refreshing, welcoming of the adventure awaiting them in the next few hours. His stomach swirled with anxiety and a spark of excitement. His chance to explore the world was finally here, even amid uncertain times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap! I thought we said that we’d only bring one bag each!” Dream exclaimed, tugging George out of his thoughts as Sapnap showed up at the back entrance of the classroom building with a huge luggage suitcase and an even bigger grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head at Sapnap with an amused shadow of a smirk as his beaming smile drooped into a scowl. With a huff, Sapnap pushed the case handle down and leaned onto it, wiping his sweaty palms on his old fire emblazoned t-shirt as spikes of his hair fell out of his loosely tied bandana. His typical black and white checkered sneakers scraped against the concrete as he spun on his heel to face George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s all my </span>
  <em>
    <span>necessities</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He pouted, stomping his foot on the ground like an impudent child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream pinched the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep breath before ultimately sighing and waving his hand dismissively. He let the backpack on his shoulder fall to the ground and took out the tablet they’d planned their course on. He sported his signature lime smiley-face sweatshirt, the one George hated looking at because the ugly worn-out yellow hurt his eyes. A part of him was convinced Dream insisted on wearing it not only because it was his favorite, but also because it annoyed George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So? What’s the plan, chief?” Sapnap sent Dream a knowing grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without looking up from his device, he replied, “The plan is getting to the Puerto Rico bay and sneaking into one of the cruise ships to Florida.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? Do you expect us to swim all the way to Puerto Rico?” George’s sarcastic tone shifted Dream’s serious expression to one of faint amusement. Setting his own backpack down, George plopped down on the concrete stairs with a similar smile, sinking his hands into the sleeves of his thin red hoodie and toying with the loose ends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you, like, fly us there?” A bemused smile replaced Sapnap’s cry-baby face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George rolled his eyes. “You know I can barely lift a ten-pound rock. How am I supposed to fly all your fat arses out there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap mocked his use of ‘arse’ and George stuck his tongue out like a little kid. Dream already looked fed up with their childish exchanges.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t need to.” Dream slung his backpack over his shoulder and signaled for them to follow him toward the docks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although it was prohibited to leave the island on any vehicle that wasn’t registered by the school or their official ferry that stopped by twice a day, the students were allowed to hang out by the docks considering it was right by the beach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The trio enjoyed heading there every so often and sitting with their feet hanging off the wooden planks, pointing out the occasional dolphin in the distance and goofing around splashing water at each other. During early winter sunsets, it was especially nice to sit through. Despite George’s inability to take in all the colors, he enjoyed steeping in Dream’s own pleasant aura of awe and tranquility. Those were some of the uncommon moments when his best friend purposefully lowered his mind block because he knew George couldn’t properly relish in the beauty of nature’s gifts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrived at the docks, George’s eyebrows turned up. As it turned out, Skeppy was more crafty than George gave him credit for. “Uh… What is that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our ride,” Skeppy announced proudly as he gestured toward the old man in the small motorboat, sitting in the driver’s seat while leafing idly through a magazine. He was leaning back on his cushioned seat, his cap blocking the sunlight as he chewed on a soggy sandwich half-wrapped in foil, enjoying it as though he weren’t in the presence of four fugitive EMs, all talking about him within hearing range. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy… I told you to get us a boat.” Dream pointed at the four of them while directing him a questionable glance. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Us</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I got </span>
  <em>
    <span>us </span>
  </em>
  <span>a ride!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know he won’t rat us out?” Sapnap asked, struggling to push the handle of his suitcase down. George sighed and swiped his finger, the handle coming down quick and hard, nearly pinching the tips of his friend’s fingers off. Sapnap sent him a side-ways glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He won’t.” Skeppy stood akimbo, teeth glinting confidence and spikes of hair swaying with the ocean breeze, as he assured them, “I’m paying him good!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine, whatever.” Dream exhaled, holding the bridge of his nose like a father already regretting bringing his three kids along on a long trip. “Everyone ready?” He threw his backpack in the boat. When he noticed Sapnap struggling to pick up his fat suitcase, he wordlessly grasped the handle with one hand and loaded it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As ready as I’ll ever be,” George mumbled as he jumped in first, the man nonchalantly nodding and turning the page of his magazine.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you want to do this?” Dream whispered to him once the four boys were settled in the boat, Skeppy giving directions to the man and Sapnap hurriedly patting down his pockets to figure out if he’d forgotten anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George inhaled deeply, offering a nervous smile as he met Dream’s gaze. “Yeah. Let’s go save Bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turns out, escaping from an island school with super-powered faculty wasn’t as difficult as it sounded. All you had to do was virtually pay an old man with nothing better to do a good sum of money to sail an hour’s way to pick you up and take you to Puerto Rico: no questions asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although George felt a shred of hesitation about the situation, his friends appeared certain they’d pull off the plan smoothly. He tried his best to settle his anxiety down by gently immersing himself in Dream’s persistent confidence, Skeppy’s unyielding optimism, and Sapnap’s fierce courage. It appeared to work—if only for a passing moment.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The salty breeze hitting George’s face as they drifted through the calm seas was somewhat soothing. The horizon ahead of them spread vast and endless, no signs of land. The parting clouds revealed the bright giant above them, gleaming down and warming George’s bare arms from where he’d pulled up his sleeves. A drip of sweat trailed into his mouth, salty like the ocean surrounding them. Beside him, Dream leaned closer, pointing out a pair of dolphins chasing each other in the distance and muttering a lame joke about it being them during manhunt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George still snorted at it, and Dream didn’t pull away the whole ride after that.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>“Dude, I thought you’d said sneaking in would be easy. How are we supposed to get in there?” Sapnap signaled toward the enormous cruise ship parked at the dock, its horn blowing out an echoing howl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Crowds of people were exiting and entering, most of them dressed in summer outfits with tourist hats and huge beams as they went on their way to explore Puerto Rico’s wonders. There were several checkpoints with dozens of security guards and staff greeting and admitting the guests. Lines of baggage claim were set up at the sides, and with the dozens of eyes zeroed in on the guests flowing in and out, the task of sneaking through the crowd unnoticed and without an admission pass would prove to be impossible without an evolved Photomental to turn them invisible. Unfortunately, they were no longer at AGE (not to mention they had no close light type friends to ask for help).</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s no way we’re going to sneak in there.” George sat back on his chair, taking a sip of the apple juice he’d ordered. They were sitting at the outdoor patio of a cafe by the docks, studying the entrances of the cruise watchfully for any easy points of entry for four stowaways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t be sneaking in through the entrances.” Dream scanned the premise, a daring glint in his stare. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George couldn’t help but roll his eyes at his undaunted confidence. Despite it, he’d never admit how impressed he actually felt every time he watched Dream do his routine during the Bio gym periods George would just sit through. And he'd drop dead before he'd confess to noticing his astute charm every time he let out a clever remark during their courses together while their peers complimented his—as one boy put it—“over 1000 IQ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> suggest we do, genius? Fly up there?” Skeppy snorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream turned to him, his devilish grin making George’s face pale. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream! You know I can’t carry you guys!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream wheezed, throwing a fry in his mouth and shaking his head amusedly. “You won’t have to do it by yourself. Skeppy will help.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy will do what now?” Skeppy’s own cocky smile fell, and he raised a dumbfounded eyebrow, no longer finding his comment amusing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“During the night, before the cruise takes off, you two are going to levitate us up there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why do I have to carry Sapnap’s fat arse?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap puffed out, slapping his arm. “Asshole!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why me?! George is the Psychic here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Children, children!” Dream silenced them after George and Sapnap's shouting match began to drown out Skeppy's lengthy explanation on why it was a bad idea for him to help. “Look, I’m gonna climb up first and tie a rope up, and all you two have to do is make sure we don’t fall thirty feet into the ocean. It’s as easy as that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Easy for you to say when your life won’t depend on these two idiots,” Sapnap muttered with a pout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The three burst into argument again while Dream just blinked and stayed quiet this time, enjoying his fries to the sound of seagulls gawking in the air, and his friends fighting like little kids in the playground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The plan went as exactly as expected: a complete and utter mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the sun had descended and the cruise's doors were shut in preparation for its departure, the four fugitives got their hands on some poor random man’s fishing boat, using it to sneak around the side of the ship to avoid any prying eyes on shore. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dingy thing creaked and groaned under their weight as it crawled along the waves, slamming into the wall of the cruise ship when it came up beside it. The boys hissed frantically and scrambled to grab onto the sides of the fishing boat, holding their breaths while they waited to see if the sound alerted anyone of their presence. After a minute of silent praying, they relaxed, George turning to look up at the massive ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready, spider-boy?” Sapnap remarked as he hooked the rope to Dream’s belt while he adjusted his mask over his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream flashed them a smile and two thumbs up before looking up. “Care to give me a boost, Skeppy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye-aye, captain,” Skeppy said before raising both arms and shooting Dream upwards with a gust of wind strong enough to allow him to grip the first circular window on the side of the ship. He lifted his feet onto the ledge and continued hopping up the vertical row of windows like that, every so often turning around and flashing them a smile before flipping up backwards onto the next. Each time made George’s stomach stir with a little more anxiety and shoot him an annoyed glare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally reached the first level a few dozen feet above, he secured the rope to the railing and sent it down. It was when Sapnap started his ascent that they ran into trouble.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was too concentrated on keeping Sapnap, who was holding his massive luggage bag at his side, steady on the rope to notice the playful squeaks on the water beside them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh… George?” Skeppy tapped his shoulder impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on-” His hands trembled as the headache incoming from his hyper-focused concentration on holding the boy and his bag weighed on his mind. “I’m trying to concentrate here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But George-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be quiet and help me out here!” He narrowed his eyes, fingers themselves beginning to tremble too. Sapnap was nearly at the top where Dream was extending his arms to grab the luggage bag first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“EeEeEe!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy, what the-” From the corner of his eye, he noticed the few dolphins circling them. One of them slammed against their tiny boat, squeaking excitedly and probably begging them for a treat. The wood beneath them wobbled, and George’s arm went flying sideways. Sapnap squealed like a little girl from above him, clutching to the rope now swinging violently from side to side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“GEORGE!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The dolphins chanted in unison, continuously ramming into their boat and jumping in the water around them. Their screeching made his ears curl, barely able to drown them out and focus his mind on the rope.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get them away from here!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How am I supposed to do that?” Skeppy waved his arms in a panic in an attempt to shoo away the curious creatures.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know- do something!” George attempted to catch the bottom of the rope that was still swinging along with the boy hanging for his dear life above them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell is going on down there?” Dream’s screaming was barely audible from above.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the dolphins noticed George going for the rope and must’ve thought it was a toy as it began to jump up and down in an attempt to bite it with its snout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonononono!” George stopped the bottom of the rope to grab it with his hand, but it proved to be a great mistake as the dolphin caught onto it and pulled it downward. Sapnap screeched, and George watched as his suitcase fell until hitting the water a few yards beside them. He concentrated on not dropping Sapnap, failing to levitate the bag before it began its descent into the water and he could no longer see it. “The bag-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m having some technical difficulties here!” Skeppy groaned as he wrestled one of the dolphins for his own backpack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I swear if they take my bag, I’m going to-” George spoke too soon, it seemed, as two of the dolphins rammed into the boat hard enough it tilted them over, sending both him and Skeppy into the water and their bags into the hands (or snouts) of five mischievous thieves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our stuff!” Skeppy screamed as he emerged from the water to see one of the dolphins grab his bag and circle around them with it, squeaking loudly and taunting them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come up here, now! Before we get caught!” Sapnap shouted from above them, probably loud enough to alert half the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That idiot is-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Forget about it, let’s go!” Skeppy grabbed onto George and the water around them circled into a spiral before it sent them shooting upwards, a whirlwind with enough force to send them to the first level of the ship.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it didn’t have enough force to get them over the rail, and George let out a surprised peep, barely able to levitate them long enough to grab onto the ledge for his dear life. The dolphins squealed below them like they were laughing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guys are a mess.” Dream sighed, shaking his head but clearly holding in his laughter as he stared at the two soaked boys—George whose red-face was fuming and Skeppy who was struggling to breathe from the laughter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why are you even laughing? They took our stuff!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever had to do,” Skeppy managed, coughing up some water. “And I’ve done a lot of stupid things in my lifetime!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our stuff is gone.” George repeated, finally finding his footing on the other side of the rail. He crossed his arms as he peeked into the ocean below, their upside-down boat being the only thing still afloat and the dolphins nowhere to be found. “Those sneaky bas-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Way to go, dumbass!” Sapnap slapped the back of his head. “Everything’s basically gone! Our clothing! Our food!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down.” Dream finally managed to stop wheezing. Sporting a sideways grin, he took his backpack off his shoulder and showed it off. “I’m glad I brought mine with me. I have enough money to last us until Florida.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Calm down?” George’s voice sounded incredulous, wide eyes dipping in sudden exasperation. “Why are you laughing- no way you have enough.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream only pressed a finger against his lips, not a trace of worry in the dancing glint of his mischievous gaze and shining smile. His shoulders perched upwards with a familiar confidence—the kind easy to sink into and flow down the gentle stream of a high mountain. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Trust me</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the gold in his eyes said, and George did, filing away his doubt for the time being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he pulled back, George turned his face away to avoid them noticing his rosy cheeks. Luckily, they were too busy inspecting their surroundings to tease him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long until we get there?” asked Skeppy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream slipped the tablet out of his backpack and swiped through it. “We should be there by Tuesday. Hopefully before midday.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, that’s like a day and a half from now. Where are we supposed to sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll make do,” Dream reassured them with a smile, charm tall and certain, as they walked down the hallway. Eventually, he signaled them toward a door that read </span>
  <em>
    <span>Staff Only</span>
  </em>
  <span> at the top.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George tried the knob, but as expected, it was locked. “Idiot. How are we supposed to get in there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s hand flew to his heart in mock offense before his smirk returned. “Georgie, do you have that little faith in me?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winked in the cocky-like Dream way that always ticked him off. This time, however, his face tickled with sudden warmth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dwelled on the emotion for a moment, wondering where exactly it was coming from. Dream was certainly a natural flirt, a trait born from a mix of his charisma and confidence, and though he enjoyed messing with George every so often, he could only think of a handful of times when he had actually blushed at his dumb quips.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dismissed the thought at the sound of Sapnap’s voice, pushing it to the back of his mind to ponder on later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Dream? What is it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream raised a finger for them to wait as he turned the corner. The three boys peeked around and watched as he approached one of the cleaning ladies who was dusting off some of the potted plants in the hallway. He spoke to her for a few seconds, his voice out of George’s hearing reach. He shifted from foot to foot, slightly leaning closer until he ‘accidentally’ dropped something in her cart and they both kneeled down to grab it. In less than a split second, he slipped his hand into her pocket and slipped out her keycard. He slid it into his back pocket and stood up, finishing off his sentence before strolling back towards them with his signature dumb grin, the one that had consistently been making George swallow a little harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Dream slipped the keycard out of his pocket, showed it off like a magician, and did a little bow, his eyes twinkling with bemused mischief as they traced over George’s features.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever. Give me that.” George snatched it from his hand and opened up the staff room. The closet was half the size of their dorm rooms with brooms and cleaning supplies organized in the shelves. “How are we supposed to sleep in here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snorted, pressing himself a little too close behind George as his arm reached over his shoulder for a clipboard on the side of the door. George shifted forward with a cough, spinning around and pretending his cheeks weren’t buzzing red.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re obviously not sleeping in here.” Dream searched through the pages until his eyes lit up. “See here? Room 356 is empty. We can stay there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a housekeeping schedule, dumbass.” Sapnap slapped the back of George’s head gently, but George still made it a point to make a fuss out of it, mostly to dial down the color on his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry I don’t exactly have experience outside the island. I’m not as </span>
  <em>
    <span>lucky</span>
  </em>
  <span> as some people.” His tone had the tiniest bit of spite to it, but it was mostly full of sarcasm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Georgie. We got you,” Dream’s arm snuck around his shoulder and brought him closer. His touch was hotter than normal, and his stomach did an acrobatics routine. Dream turned to the other two, oblivious to the unfamiliar tenseness in George’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why the hell was he reacting this way? Dream had always been a touchy person, yet for some reason today, George’s muscles felt jittery every time Dream’s fingers even grazed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, boys, let’s go find our room!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room was about the size of their dorms with two bunk beds at each corner and two roomy closets beside each of them, not that they would need them. There was an alarm clock on the nightstands in front of the window facing the vast night sea. The beds were neatly made with a visitor’s note welcoming them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I call the bottom bunk!” Sapnap threw himself on the bed, spreading his arms and closing his eyes with a satisfied smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’ll take the top.” Skeppy climbed on the bunk above Sapnap, fluffing his pillow and lying on his side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You guess?” George questioned, sitting down on the bed by Sapnap’s.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Figured you and Dream want to be on the same side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What! Why?” George’s face went crimson, and at the sound of his own voice shaking the slightest bit, he noticed Dream raise an eyebrow from the corner of his eye. He instantly wanted to stuff his face into the pillow and pretend it was the sleep deprivation talking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, so you guys can go cwuddle and go-'' Sapnap made kissing noises as he looked between the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh shut up!” Dream grabbed the pillow next to him and proceeded to smack him, his smile wide and his eyes twinkling. George gulped and stared at the bunk above him, deciding he really needed to rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ow! Okay-okay, daddy, chill!” Sapnap laughed in between hits, shielding his head with his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream muttered, “Idiot,” as he retreated from Sapnap’s bed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, I’m trying to sleep here,” Skeppy whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, go to bed, kids.” Dream sent Sapnap an I’m-watching-you gesture and effortlessly climbed onto the bunk above George’s with two hops. “Goodnight!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aye-aye, captain!” Dream hurled one of his pillows at Sapnap. “Jokes on you, now I got three pillows to sleep with!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Go to sleep!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned to face the wall with a slightly amused expression, burying his head into his pillow and staring into the blank wall. As soon as he closed his eyes, however, it struck him. They were really doing this. He was hundreds of miles away from the island. For the first time in a decade, he was out and about in the real world with more power than ever edging at his fingertips—demanding to be broken out of the confines of his mind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anything could go wrong at any second. He could lose control. His powers could go crazy and hurt someone. He could be thrown in prison for it. Now that he was eighteen, especially, he no longer had the protection of the school behind him. He was of age, and at any moment, government officials could burst through that door and declare George unstable enough to commit into a facility.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was a Psychic after all. It wasn’t unheard of. In fact, there was a high likelihood he would run into a situation like that at least once in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George…” a whisper snapped him out of his thoughts, and for a second, he thought he imagined it until…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George.” It was Dream’s voice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can hear you freaking out. Go to sleep.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” He furrowed his eyebrows, wondering if he’d been thinking aloud.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re projecting again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” was all he could manage, swallowing the dryness in his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the struggles he’d discovered when he first learned about his empathy at fifteen was projecting his feelings onto the people around him, more specifically Dream. Although he had accidentally projected with his other friends and classmates a handful of times, when he first started struggling with his abilities, for whatever reason, Dream was the one he had most trouble keeping his emotions away from. It was like an invisible thread tying him to his best friend—one woven from an unbreakable link and an unyielding attachment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unfortunately, it also seemed keeping his projection under control was starting to grow progressively more difficult with his growing powers and his new environments. “Sorry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay. Just try to sleep, alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” He shifted uncomfortably in bed a few times, looking up, laying on his right, his left. Sapnap started snoring next to him, and George sighed, shutting his eyes tightly and screaming at his brain to shut off. But there was something constantly pricking his thoughts. He couldn’t quite tell what it was. Perhaps it was his panic about actually being out in the world with his level of power, his worry about where Bad could be and what they could be doing to him, the confusing feelings Dream was starting to bring about in him, the incessant tension in his muscles that hadn’t backed down since that nightmare he’d had the previous night. That shadow snaking around his shoulders every time he closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream released a heavy sigh above him, and George bit the inside of his mouth, trying to turn off his thoughts for his best friend’s sake, if anything. What he didn’t expect was the abrupt warmth radiating off the top bunk—the spell of safety and calm falling on him like soothing raindrops. He smiled, his breathing slowing and a fluffy cloud hugging his head and shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dozed off, though not before hearing the barely distinct words against the gentle night air, cradling him one last time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, George.”</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You want to go out? With me?” George looked over his shoulder, fully expecting there to be someone else behind him. The hallway was mostly empty, however, with only a couple of students shuffling to their classes and shoving their textbooks in their lockers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course, who else?” Andrea, a pretty girl from the year under him, had approached him after their math course to ask him on a dinner date. To say George was surprised would’ve been an understatement.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Andrea was a Geomental who hung out with the upperclassmen often, even as a seventh-year. Her long chestnut hair fell in gentle waves and framed her heart-shaped face nicely. With her kind eyes and cute dimples caved in like little smileys on her cheeks, she was known as one of the sweethearts of her year, a constant beam that brought life to every room she walked into and offered an endless string of compliments for everyone. Out of all the girls George expected to ask him out (if there were any), she was the least likely candidate. Hell, George would’ve thought the mean girl who constantly threw insults at him during their history course would’ve been more likely to ask him out than Andrea.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh…” George scratched the back of his head nervously, his fingers gripping onto his backpack tightly. “Sure… I guess, I mean, yes! Of course!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His face flushed at the sound of her chuckle, and her dimples smiled at him. “Sweet! Meet tonight at six in the mess hall?” She leaned against the lockers, staring up at him with a bright gleam and twisting a strand of hair with her finger. Gentle waves of worry blended with a timid hope soothed the air around them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George swallowed and forced a small smile. “Sounds great.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Great! I’ll see you there!” Without another thought, she planted a shy peck on his cheek and strolled away with a more eager hop to her step than usual, leaving George a hot tomato glued to his spot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dude!” Sapnap slapped his back, and George jerked sideways, hitting his head against the lockers.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Bloody hell, you almost gave me a heart attack!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did Andrea just ask </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>you</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> out?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George avoided his teasing eyes and instead settled for staring out the window at the serene spring afternoon. “Maybe.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lucky twink.” He ruffled his head of hair, and George slapped his hand away, letting out a gentle grumble at his dumb quips. “Let’s go tell Dream!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tell me what?” Dream snuck up behind them, sneaking his arms around both their shoulders and smiling like an idiot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream!” George yelped, stumbling around and staring at him like he’d just been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “Uh-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George just landed a date with </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>Andrea</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Andrea?” Dream’s arched eyebrow and the teasing glint in his gaze made George feel seen. “How did you manage that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t know… She just came up to me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Never thought I’d see the day our little Georgie would grow up like this.” Dream faked wiping a tear from his eye, and Sapnap joined him in his exaggerated parent act.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George shuffled past them, pretending his face wasn’t mimicking the color of the rose bushes outside the window. “You’re both massive idiots. I’m leaving.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Be safe, Georgie!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t do anything I would do!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His friends burst into laughter behind him, and George rolled his eyes, ignoring the curious hallway peeks directed his way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The day went by excruciatingly slowly with George glancing at the clock every few minutes, blood buzzing and on edge. The closer it got to six, the more jumpy he got.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>By the time the clock struck their meeting time, George was impatiently tapping his foot on the floor as he waited outside the door of the mess hall. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>6:05 passed, and he was leaning against the wall watching students head inside talking with their friends, chewing his bottom lip nervously.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>6:10 passed, and his stomach was starting to churn, shoulders slumped as he searched the hallway for Andrea. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was about to strike 6:15 and George was about to head back to his dorm disappointed when the sound of rushed sandals clicking on the floor caught his attention.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"George!" Andrea came up next to him in all her glory, hair and makeup done and dressed in a pretty summer dress. "I am so sorry! My friend held me up."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"No problem." He smiled and stood in front of her with his hands clasped together and balancing on his back heels.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She chuckled, glancing between him and the door. "Should we head inside..?" </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Right..."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They strolled into the mess hall somewhat awkwardly, picking up their plates from the buffet, and choosing a table outside that overlooked the garden. The sun was almost set, and the horizon appeared a pretty warm palette.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was awkwardly silent for the first few minutes until Andrea spoke up. "I know we don't know each other very well but you seem like a cool person, and I guess I just wanted to get to know you better." </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"That's… cool," he replied, somewhat shakily, his eyes glued to his plate. The heel of his foot rubbed incessantly against his chair. He felt unusually hyper aware of his surroundings, the beginning of vortex opening up inside his gut.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Not now</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, was the only thought playing on repeat inside his head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"A lot of the kids think you're scary because of your powers, but I don't think that."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He glanced up at her and offered a small smile but he couldn't find anything to give her besides a shy, "Thanks."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>From the corner of his eye, he could see a couple of kids whispering among themselves in the tables near them while motioning toward their table. He saw a few of the girls giggle, and he clasped his hands under the table, attempting to ignore them. A drip of sweat rolled down the back of his neck, leaving a trail of sizzling electricity down his spine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"How is that? Being a Psychic I mean."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um, well, I can’t say I enjoy it,” George admitted. Waves of sick amusement surrounded him like he was in the middle of a laughing audience during a failing circus act. His ears became increasingly aware of every sound—a cackle, a hushed whisper, a snort. His fingers tapped on his lap to the rhythm of his accelerating heartbeat, the vortex inside his gut widening and eagerly ingesting every emotion from the tables surrounding them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aw, it can’t be all bad, can it?” She scooted closer, and George’s stomach stirred.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He let out a timid chuckle, slightly leaning away the closer she got, the murmurs around them growing more evident. “I guess.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Andrea backed off, disappointment hitting him like a slap to the face. He gulped, a faint bout of anger and guilt stirring in him as he tried to contain his hypersensitive mind, attempting so desperately to keep his stupid powers away from her—the only girl who’d ever paid any attention to him. But the kids around them were talking. Feeling. Rushing him. He couldn’t quite hear them, but they were—the second-hand embarrassment and pity suffocated him like a gas chamber.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>She forced a smile, taking another bite of her macaronis. “So your friends? Dream and Sapnap? They’re nice, huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s eyes lit up, eager to grasp a topic that could get his mind off of the crowding emotions around them. “Yeah, they’re great friends! Sapnap’s a bit chaotic and Dream is an idiot, but I love them. They’ve been there for me through thick and thin.” He swallowed again, his smile shaky.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A spike of irritation not his own bubbled in his stomach, and he tried so hard to expel it. “That’s great.” She turned to her food, pursing her lips and appearing a bit out of it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A few girls from the table next to them shook their heads in disapproval, and his lip quivered as he attempted to block them out. But it was too much. It was too much and George was barely able to handle taking in a few emotions at once. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was too much and he was drowning—hardly able to control every wave pounding into his head insistently. And then the vortex broke. A dozen indiscernible emotions zoomed and zipped around him like a disordered highway of chaotic drivers, exploding into a bubble enclosing him, drinking any aura in the air and augmenting it a hundred times. His. Theirs. Hers. All in his head. All spilling out of him into a whirlpool of blended feelings caving in on his mind.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And when his eyes fixated on hers, he couldn’t contain it any longer—this hub of feeling rushing his head. His mess of nerves and shame and embarrassment, some his own and some not, it shot into her all without remorse. She jerked in her seat, her eyes widening a little and her hands trembling every-so-slightly, brow crunching in confusion at where all this unwanted emotion was coming from. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Unsure of what to say and wanting so desperately to pretend it was all fine, that his head wasn’t a cyclone of emotion, he grasped the first topic that came to mind. “Um, so, what about you? Your friends seem nice too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Andrea didn’t answer, her hands gripping the table and her eyes sped around them as she grew incessantly aware of everyone’s attention on them. Of the explosion of ugly colors circling their table. Of him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was clearly the wrong question to ask, and incapable of processing the invisible turmoil penetrating the air, Andrea stood rigid on her spot, her mouth a thin line and tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I- I can’t be around you right now. I have to go.” She rushed away from the table, almost tripping over herself and avoiding the gyrating attention from the other tables.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Wait, Andrea!” George tried calling out, but the girl was already gone, leaving him alone at the table with two half-eaten meals and his classmates struggling to contain their laughter and whispers, drowning him in a pit of embarrassment, shame and pity.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Everyone was laughing at us.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And? Why does that matter? You finally got a girl to ask you out and you scare her away?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream.” George shut his eyes tightly, the back of his eyes scorching. He pressed his head against the trunk of their tree, glared up at the starry sky. He took a deep breath, averting both his own disappointment and Dream’s—though Dream’s was lighter and more compassionate than his own. “Everyone was laughing at us. I could hear them—I could</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em> feel</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> them.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Look, you’ve had your empathy for a few months now, and I know it must be hard, but you really have to get a grip on it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t understand what it’s like, Dream! To feel like you're overdosing on everyone’s feelings! To not even know which emotions are yours! To feel like you’re an intruder in everyone’s head! Don’t you think I’m trying?” he shouted, an ardent ache at his throat and angry tears piling at the corners of his eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The suddenness of his snap made Dream flinch seeing as it was rare to see George so fired up. “Look, I know I don’t understand but-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re not all as perfect as you!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He frowned, and George felt Dream’s anger seeping out and engulfing him, entangling with his own like some sort of fucked up salsa routine. “I’m not perfect.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah. Because you’re the guy who insists on winning everything and gets angry when he doesn’t! Don’t I have the right to get angry about my own faults too?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His stomach burned. Dream’s jaw tensed, and he could see him clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What? You want to fight me now? Beat me up? Do it!” George’s head was spinning, and for some reason, this bout of fury was intoxicating, wrapping around him sucking every bit of negativity in the air and amplifying it by two hundred percent, his emotions surging toward Dream like they’d done Andrea. Feeding off of each other, starving cannibalistic wolves trapped inside a feedback loop.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop.” Dream blinked his eyes shut, eyebrows scrunched up in pent-up frustration.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We don’t all love having powers like you, Dream. We don’t all dream about stupid shit that won’t happen because this world is too fucked up to accept people like us! Superheros?” He snorted indignantly. “What a fucking joke.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up!” Dream pinned him to the trunk, his fist raised and swinging toward his jaw.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But it stopped a millimeter before striking him. It caught both of them off-guard. The black hole dissipated, and only the surge of adrenaline in George’s veins remained, his heart echoing in his head. They went silent and stared at each other for a long time. Dream let go of him, jerking back like he was afraid of his own hands. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-” George couldn’t find the right words. His mind was beginning to clear, and his emotions felt like his own again. “I think that was me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What do you mean? I was blocking you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George shook his head and looked down at his trembling fingers. His vision was blurry as he scowled at the dirt ground below his hands.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His empathy. It was his stupid empathy ruining everything again. “No. I think I got inside your head this time… Sarah…” His voice cracked, tears beginning to spill out as he remembered what she’d explained the week he’d discovered his empathy. “She told me I could project my emotions onto people if I wasn’t careful.” He pursed his lips, wiping the wetness off his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The uncomfortable silence that followed revolted his stomach until his best friend’s hand was on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing soft circles on his skin. George turned, forcing a small smile through the tears when he noticed the unyielding softness in his warm gaze. “It’s okay. Seriously, it’s not your fault.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George pressed his head against Dream’s shoulder when it was obvious he couldn’t contain the tears anymore. He sobbed in silence for what felt like hours, even though only a few minutes went by. When his tears ran out and his gasps were ragged and dry, George could only hear his own harsh breathing and Dream’s rapid heartbeat pounding against his ear. “What am I going to do, Dream? If I can’t control it? What if they send me away?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They won’t.” He said it so confidently, and for a mere moment, even George believed him. “I won’t let them. We’ll learn to control your powers, George. I promise you we will.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We?” George’s voice quavered as he pulled back, brows furrowing when he searched his eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We’re in this together.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Y’all consistently make me smile so big my cheeks hurt with your comments and support, so THANK YOU! I hope you all had a wonderful start of your year, and if you didn’t, I hope I was able to make it at least a little brighter! I know y’all have certainly made my 2021 seem a little more hopeful :)</p><p>I could never thank y’all enough for all the kindness and support you’ve shown me. Thank you so much for reading! &lt;3</p><p>Abrazos y besos,<br/>Light</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Stowaways in a Caribbean Cruise</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, thanks <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/princedemeter/pseuds/princedemeter"> Grav </a> and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_kitkat/pseuds/lazy_kitkat"> Winter </a> for being the best betas around, and of course, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gra55/pseuds/Gra55"> Grass </a>!</p><p>Also, special thanks to my best friends who stayed up on Skype with me yesterday when I was freaking out about a part of this chapter being bad and then helping me fix it (also for calming me down when my camera stopped working and I almost had a heart attack because this is a new computer and my semester is about to start).</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“WAKE UP!” George awoke to a pillow to the face and a pyromaniac standing over him threateningly, ready to smother him with a sick grin on his face. The sun beams cascaded through the small window next to him, and outside, the ship blew its morning horn.</p><p>“Bloody hell, stop it!” He blocked Sapnap’s next hit with his arms, groaning and sitting up, trying to push him off. “I’m awake,” he announced with a yawn which earned him another smack he failed to dodge.</p><p>“Change, we’re gonna go eat breakfast.” Sapnap let the pillow go on top of his head and walked back to his bed, flinging a pair of cargo shorts and a short sleeve into George’s face after he’d put down the pillow.</p><p>Pulling them off his face, George grimaced and examined them, finding they were one size too big and also smelled like they’d been stored deep within attic boxes for years. “Where did you even get these?”</p><p>Sapnap shrugged, pulling off his shirt from yesterday and slipping on an old band tee. “Skeppy got them. Don’t ask how. Now hurry up, I’m starving!” </p><p>“Fat arse,” George remarked and used his pillow to block Sapnap’s next instant attack with a laugh.</p><p>A few minutes later, they were wandering the halls of the cruise idly. Animated voices surrounded them everywhere they went, bright laughter and huge smiles decorating every passerby’s face. They walked by a family all dressed in fourth of July outfits (despite the holiday being a month away) and taking a photo with a tripod. A young couple stood at the railings snapping photos of the dolphins in the distance, their lively squeaks audible from miles away. The sound only recalled the events from last night and caused George to cringe. A few teenagers were messing around by the restrooms, and one of the security guards was keeping a close eye on them, thankfully not paying Sapnap and him any attention.</p><p>“Where are Dream and Skeppy?”</p><p>“I think they went to find us some passes. Told us to be chill and not draw attention to ourselves or something.”</p><p>“And they left me with<em> you </em>?” George looked unimpressed.</p><p>Sapnap rolled his eyes. “Look, dude, you don’t gotta be jealous of my fire skills. Don’t worry, your powers are plenty cool.” He waved a dismissive hand, and it was George’s turn to roll his eyes.</p><p>“George! Sapnap!” A familiar voice called out in front of them. Skeppy and Dream were heading toward them with their arms full of food and sporting two huge smiles.</p><p>“Where did you get that?” George asked as he grabbed an apple from the top of Dream’s stack and took a bite out of it, suddenly aware of his stomach grumbling at him.</p><p>“The buffet, duh,” Skeppy replied.</p><p>“Let’s head to the deck and try not to make a scene.” Dream eyed Sapnap and Skeppy warningly, and George snorted at Sapnap’s mock offended expression.</p><p>The deck was much louder than the rest of the ship with chattering all around them, a tiki bar with bartenders performing fire tricks with flamed drinks, the vivacious sway of Caribbean music swirling around them, and a newly-wed couple dancing an energetic routine in the middle of the dancefloor, several people clapping and cheering them on. Energy buzzed through George’s skin, and the people’s beams were contagious, his own pearls on display as some of the staff greeted them kindly as they passed. He felt strangely normal in the middle of the deck, not an ounce of attention aimed his way. </p><p>For the first time, nobody knew him. Nobody was afraid of him. And for a fleeting moment, George closed his eyes and imagined what it’d be like to live in that kind of world. </p><p>They found a spot by the pool which wasn’t too crowded, only had a few kids splashing around in the water and their parents sitting and chatting away on the chairs nearby. There were only a few security guards around so they went through without a suspicious glance and settled down at an empty table to eat their breakfast which consisted of croissants, fruit, and bacon (which Sapnap proceeded to call Techno when Dream took a bite).</p><p>“Cute girl checking you out. Three O’clock.” Sapnap elbowed Dream at one point during their meal, raising both eyebrows suggestively and signaling his pupils to the right.</p><p>George followed his trail of vision which led to a trio of girls giggling among themselves on a seating area on the other side of the pool. One of them was very clearly checking Dream out, blonde curls framing the side of her face in an admittedly attractive way and a flirty side-smile on display. But Dream didn’t bother turning.</p><p>“Dream? Did you hear me?” Sapnap whisper-yelled despite how far away the girls were.</p><p>“I heard you.”</p><p>“Well? Go do something!”</p><p>“Why?” Dream leaned back in his chair, observing his friend with a twinkle of amusement. It always set off a hint of annoyance in George—Dream’s cheeky demeanor in the face of people who found him attractive. George lowered his gaze and toyed with the cap of his water bottle. “I’m not interested, and I said we should avoid drawing attention to ourselves. We’re not exactly on vacation, guys.”</p><p>George wasn’t sure what came over him but before he could bite his tongue, he remarked, “And you decide to wear <em> that </em> to not draw attention to yourself?” He gestured toward Dream’s fitted white t-shirt which, with the help of his perspiration and the light breeze of the ocean surrounding them, stuck to him and showed off his lean frame nicely. Not to mention his messy locks were swept over his forehead in that playful Dream way of his.</p><p>George’s face went red when he noticed Skeppy’s and Sapnap’s mouths agape, and even Dream, who usually kept his cool, was caught off guard by the suggestive statement.</p><p>The cocky smirk that spread across his face only made his face buzz with more warmth. Internally, he cursed himself and gulped, pretending to be staring at the grandma showing off her tango skills on the dance floor. “Aw, is Georgie checking me out? I’m flattered.”</p><p>“I am not!” He pursed his lips, more aware now of the wetness on his back from where the sun was facing it.</p><p>“Admit it. You totally were,” Dream pushed as he leaned closer over the table, his hand grazing the back of his palm teasingly. George bit the inside of his cheek and kept his mouth shut, staring more intensely at the dance floor.</p><p>He’d never been so happy to hear Sapnap’s voice. “Okay, okay. We all know Dream’s smokin’ hot and all but seriously, dude? Aren’t you going to try your moves on them?” Sapnap continued, vaguely gesturing toward the girls who still had their eyes on them.</p><p>“If you’re so insistent on it, why don’t you go?” Skeppy added, crossing his arms and staring at him with a raised brow.</p><p>“Fine! Watch and learn, boys.” Sapnap took a sip of his soda and stood up with both arms extended. He strolled toward the girls with too much confidence in his step.</p><p>“Well, this is going to go great.” Skeppy’s sarcastic quip was accompanied with a crooked smile. Dream snorted and shook his head, lips toying with the straw of his drink and meeting his gaze playfully. Caught staring, George briskly turned away.</p><p>They watched as Sapnap stepped beside the girls and directed the one who was staring at Dream a few words. The girl’s expression shifted from hopeful to excited to confused to insulted in a record span of ten seconds, and she got up, hurling her drink on Sapnap and stomping away with her friends following.</p><p>Dream choked on his soda, a few drops spraying from his nostrils and his uncontrollable wheezing catching the attention of an old couple passing by. George sent the couple an apologetic and embarrassed smile.</p><p>“What did he say?” Skeppy asked.</p><p>Once Dream managed to catch his breath, he cleared his throat and pulled out his best Sapnap impression. “Hey mamas, come here often? What do you say I take y’all out to dinner sometime?”</p><p>Skeppy burst into laughter, slamming his palm on the table dramatically. Meanwhile, George shook his head, sporting a half-smile as he watched Dream burst into wheezes again, emeralds twinkling in an adorable way.</p><p>George cleared his throat. “Did that idiot really ask all of them out at the same time?”</p><p>Sapnap returned to their table, slumping on his chair and slapping Dream’s shoulder after him and Skeppy continued laughing. He muttered something about the girls not having good taste in men.</p><p>George scoffed and turned away from his friends to immerse himself in the delightful scene on the deck. An old woman was walking arm-in-arm with her husband into the ballroom where some formal event seemed to be taking place. A very pretty girl was excitedly posing by the railing as a guy took pictures of her. Four kids were playing marco polo in the water with too much energy.</p><p>His eyes landed on a particular kid who looked to be around elementary age, an odd worry settling at the back of his mind like something unpleasant was about to take place. There was something off about him, not in the way he looked, but in the way he moved about in the water as he chased the kids with his eyes closed and his playful toothed laugh on display.</p><p>The boy swam in circles, nearly catching his friends every time but failing to do so by a few inches. The frustration on his expression grew more evident as he continued to miss and his friends burst into giggles about it.</p><p>Abruptly, his hand flew up in the direction of one of his friends, the smallest girl of the bunch who was giggling sweetly as she swam toward the deeper end, and George’s stomach dropped when he realized what was happening. The pool water came to life, not unlike the unruly surges of an ocean amid a heavy thunderstorm. A wave charged toward the girl, frantic waters swallowing her whole, the kids shrieking and catching the attention of a few adults as they struggled out of the pool.</p><p>“Sam!” a woman shouted as she threw herself into the pool and struggled to pull her daughter up, fighting against the current as she swam toward the ledge. Another woman approached them and wrapped a towel around the coughing girl whose fragile body wouldn’t stop trembling. Her mother whispered a few words into her ear, embracing her tightly and rubbing her shoulders to comfort her.</p><p>As quickly as the water came to life, it stilled, leaving the little boy frozen with fear in the middle of the pool, dozens of eyes on him and angry whispers filling the tense and abruptly silent air. The Caribbean music in the background suddenly sounded much more menacing with no laughter to accompany it. George’s hands strained the fabric of his shorts and his fingers began to tremble the smallest amount as the image brought back unpleasant memories.</p><p>The boy’s mother approached him, calling him out of the water and putting a towel around his shoulders, her face a mix of horror and panic.</p><p>“Your boy needs to be committed to a facility for freaks!” Sam’s mother shouted.</p><p>“Ma’am, I’m sorry, I didn’t- he isn’t-” The boy’s mother gripped the towel on his shoulders tightly, a string of incoherent words spurting out of her, but the woman cut her off.</p><p>“You’re sorry?” Sam’s mother left her daughter in the care of the other woman and stood up, glancing around her, appalled. “Everyone saw what happened! Your son almost <em> drowned </em> my daughter and you have <em> the nerve </em> to say that you’re <em> sorry </em> !? This is why <em> freaks </em> like him aren’t allowed on this ship without permission!”</p><p>The aura of fear and fury agitating the air made George’s pulse quicken, his mouth agape slightly as he exhaled sharply in an attempt to expel the unpleasant emotions. He looked back at the little girl sobbing into the other woman’s arms. Terror—it drowned her whole, and when George recognized the look in her eyes, his heart sunk.</p><p>It was likely Sam’s first impression of an EM, a traumatic memory that would be stored in her mind for the years to come. Every EM she’d meet after this would have the unfortunate luck of being associated with this moment. She could lash out because of fear, turn into her mother even, or she could avoid an interaction at all cost, only sending them a terror-stricken look that would be heart-breaking for the other. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence—every day it happened. And every day, they grew more divided. George couldn’t help but feel dread when he thought about an end to all of it—would they manage to resolve their differences or...? He pushed the thought away.</p><p>When he turned back to the boy, his shame and confusion and shock all encompassing him and the air around him—it broke George. Tears pricked in his own eyes as the boy’s emotions took him back to all those encounters he’d had himself. The day his powers manifested. The day he met Maia. His date with Andrea. Countless incidents that all pushed him further into his own shell. Those which made him regard the stranger in the mirror with unbrittled dread.</p><p>And then his eyes landed on Sam’s mother whose mouth was moving but whose hateful words were all but background noise to George. His head throbbed, a strange force inside aching to break through, to stand up and defend the scared boy. <em> Teach the woman a lesson </em>, a thought deep from within echoed in his head, setting off goosebumps in every inch of his body.</p><p><em> She’s only protecting her daughter </em> , he told himself, despite his instincts yelling at him to attack. His nails dug into his thighs as he forced the sudden unpleasant thoughts fogging his mind back. <em> Her young daughter whose trauma will prevent her from accepting them—us. </em></p><p><em> It’s not her fault, </em> he reminded himself, no matter how much he wanted to believe otherwise. To make the mother a villain. But truthfully, he was as much as a villain right then, perhaps even more for wanting to hurt an innocent girl’s mother. </p><p>“Ma’am, please, we don’t have anywhere to go! I didn’t know he was-”</p><p>“Get that freak away from her!” Sam’s mother exclaimed and jerked back when the boy tried to approach the girl with an apologetic palm extended, his eyes brimming with tears. The boy’s mother pulled him back, hands firmly gripping his shoulders.</p><p><em> She’s scared. </em> Energy sizzled at his fingertips despite his attempts to hold it back. He pressed into his skin harder. <em> Not now. </em></p><p>Next to him, Dream’s fist slamming on the table startled George into looking at him. The scene had caught his friends attention as well, and Dream’s lip was quivering, his eyes ardent with a fire not unlike the one burning at the tiki bar. His rage was so fervent it trespassed his mind block and his aura burned through George more than the sun beams on his skin. The last time he had seen Dream this angry… </p><p><em> Not now, </em>he repeated when a strange bout of cursed murmurs erupted in his head, tugging him between fight and flight.</p><p>George swallowed up his conflicting emotions, allowing them to burn with the acid in his stomach. He covered Dream’s fist with his palm, his thumb rubbing lightly. Dream’s eyes moved from the scene before them to George.</p><p>It took all of George’s effort to keep his voice quiet and calm, at least as calm as he could sound right then. “We can’t do anything about it or we’ll draw attention to ourselves.”</p><p>“It’s not his fault.”</p><p>He knew that. George knew that and he wasn’t doing anything about it. <em> But it isn’t Sam’s fault either. </em></p><p>With his fists clenched, George’s gaze remained stern, and his voice didn’t tremble with pent-up frustration like Dream’s when he said, “I know.”</p><p>Dream’s shoulders slumped a bit, and he turned away, not bearing to witness the kid’s terrified face any longer. The woman pulled her child away while Sam’s mother approached her daughter, lightly caressing her head and watching the boy with disgust along with the crowd of onlookers, some of whom muttered slurs as the mother and boy passed.</p><p>When the woman stood to watch the boy and his mother leave the deck, the fire at the tiki bar behind her burned a little higher, and the air pushed it toward her, making her screech and jump forward as she felt the heat rise on her back. She turned around with confusion, and a force within George almost convinced him to tip the bar over, to let her suffer in hellish flames. The brutality of the shocking thought snapped him out of it.</p><p>George turned to his friends, the perspiration stuck to his neck blazing on his skin. “We should go.”</p><p>None of them refused, and for the rest of the day, they spent their time in their room, mostly quiet with George burying his nose in a book he’d luckily snuck into Dream’s bag, Skeppy and Sapnap scrolling through the TV channels, and Dream swiping through his tablet, foot restlessly shaking.</p><p>It was unsettling. Their auras almost felt like an invisible elephant taking up too much space in the tiny room, pressing against George’s ribcage. Despite it, he chose to submerge in their emotions in fear of facing his own.</p><p>Skeppy and his bright optimism, the one who had seemed the most confident walking into their mission, was as quiet as ever. If George tried hard enough, he could almost feel the uncertainty suffocating him.</p><p>Sapnap with his usual spark of courage that never ceased to amaze George was now a deflated balloon staring at the TV blankly, an unfamiliar insecurity shrouding his aura. George hated seeing his friend appear so defeated, especially when Sapnap had always been one to stand so confidently next to George when he couldn’t do it himself.</p><p>And then there was Dream whose emotions, shockingly, were missing. It was a complete contrast to earlier when his anger had felt like daggers piercing him. George despised it. He despised it because he knew Dream was bottling it up, hiding it away from George so he wouldn’t have to deal with it. But he preferred to deal with his conflicting emotions any day over the empty void in the part of George’s mind reserved only for Dream.</p><p>It wasn’t until night time rose when Skeppy and Sapnap had fallen asleep watching old films on their beds that Dream asked George if they could take a walk. George silently nodded, and they made their way out, drifting through the hallways and viewing the star-filled sky across the ocean.</p><p>“So you think this shirt looks good on me, huh?” Dream peeked at George with a cocky grin. A deflection, and a damn good one at that.</p><p>George felt the warmth rise up his neck, but he covered it up by turning up his nose and replying with an indignant, “As if. You look and smell like a wet dog in it.”</p><p>Dream replied with a wheeze, shaking his head and then muttering a soft, “You’re such an idiot.”</p><p>Gaining a few inches lead, Dream swiftly spun around and faced him, not losing his footing as he did and walking backwards as casually as he did normally like the show-off he was. He folded his hands behind his head, his lopsided grin prickling annoyance on George’s cheeks.</p><p>His eyes sparkled with mischief when he said, “I think that sweatshirt really brings out your eyes.”</p><p>George scoffed, stuffing his hands into the pocket of his red hoodie and pretending it wasn’t matching the color of his face.</p><p>They ended up at the deck again, though this time it was deserted, trash scattered about and unfinished drinks abandoned on the tables, a shadow of the energetic scene a few hours ago. The lights flickered on when they detected their motion, and George’s furrowed eyebrows made Dream turn to see what he was looking at.</p><p>There was a kid sitting at the edge of the pool by himself. As they approached, George realized it was the boy from before. His shoulders were trembling, and he could hear the patten soft heaves and a hiccup on repeat.</p><p>George closed his eyes and sunk into the boy’s dread, the uneasy emotion swamping him, pulling back ugly memories he’d chosen to bury. It was all too familiar to him. When he opened his eyes, he noticed Dream’s grim expression beside him, lips pursed tensely as if trying to decide if he should approach the boy.</p><p>George shifted closer to the boy without another thought, leaving Dream standing behind them silently. The boy startled when he felt George sit next to him.</p><p>“I know how you feel,” he said after a minute of the both of them staring at the water unmoving.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>George hesitated before the ball at the other side of the pool levitated in the air and fell gently into the water. The boy gasped, scrambling back a little before his eyes landed on George.</p><p>“It’s okay. Having powers isn’t all that bad.” He smiled slightly at him and lowered his hand. The boy stared at him with huge blue eyes like he’d just met his hero. “You’ll grow fond of them.” Then George leaned in slightly and whispered, “Maybe even turn into a superhero. Who knows? Have you heard of Aquaman?”</p><p>The boy shook his head.</p><p>“He’s a superhero from a very long time ago. He could control water like you, talk to fish even. Who knows, maybe you’ll be able to talk to fish one day too. How cool would that be, huh?”</p><p>George’s smile spread on both sides of his face, and the boy giggled the way a kid ought to at his age—not weep about an innate trait he couldn’t change about himself. Or worse: to wish it all away and live fearing his own reflection every morning. All because the world was too ruthless to accept their kind.</p><p>“Aaron!” a panicked voice said from behind them. It was the kid’s mother, hurrying toward them in alarm. Aaron stood up and rushed toward her, the woman quickly kneeling and embracing him, motherly love exuding from her in a nostalgic way that caused his throat to close. His arms ached for warmth then, and he stood up, shifting closer to Dream if only to feel his body heat near him.</p><p>“Don’t you ever run away like that again! You’re not supposed to be out here,” she scolded before hugging him tightly again, observing them from over her son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry if he was bothering you two. I- please, I can compensate you, just don’t let the-”</p><p>“It’s okay, miss,” Dream assured her, smiling.</p><p>She was on the verge of crying, her bottom lip trembling as she took the boy into her arms. “Thank you. I’m sorry, again.”</p><p>Before she could walk away, Dream called out after her. “Miss, sorry to intrude but have you thought about enrolling him in a special school?”</p><p>“I’m sorry?”</p><p>“A special school for kids like him.” His smile grew slightly. “It’s safe. My…” He bit back his words, thinking carefully. “... brother is like that. And he attends a school. He loves it there. He’s made life-long friends, and he has great control of his abilities—loves them even. I really recommend it.” </p><p>The woman stared at him momentarily and then returned his smile. “Thank you. I’ll think about it.”</p><p>Dream turned to George after she disappeared around the corner, the softness in his gaze causing his cheeks to heat up. “What?”</p><p>“Nothing, just…” There was a slight hesitancy in his step when he moved closer. He buried his hands in his pockets, his half-amused and comforting smile lighter than the fresh ocean wind enveloping them. “Aquaman, huh?”</p><p>George laughed, rolling his eyes and twisting sideways like his face wasn’t a complete tomato. He rubbed the sides of his arms slightly, not so much to soothe the cold but just to stimulate the numbness in his skin. “Shut up.”</p><p>Dream stopped in front of him, his calloused fingertips lifting his chin, the most tender touch he’d ever received from him. His breath almost hitched, but he swallowed instead. Dream’s eyes drowned him like a honey-combed forest, eager for a taste of sweetness. “I’m proud of you.”</p><p>“Thanks.”</p><p>The moment lasted three seconds too long, and before the warmth of his breath could lure him in like a beacon of light to a moth, he stepped back, reeling in his thoughts again, fingers nervously toying with the inside of his pockets. “We should head back.”</p><p>“Wait-” Dream grasped his wrist before he could walk away, his fingertips burning. He pointed at the sky. “Let’s just watch the stars for a bit. The sky is so beautiful tonight.”</p><p>George hesitated, but he didn’t stop Dream when he dragged him toward the front of the deck, laid on his back, and patted the spot by him. He rolled his eyes, a snicker escaping him, and followed his suit.</p><p>The stars were speckles of white in the darkness, millions of them spread in clumps on a canvas of black. George allowed himself to drown in their glamour. Next to him, Dream shifted, their shoulders finding warmth in each other.</p><p>His gaze heavied, eyelids drooping, until the gentle rock of the sea and calm of sleep lured him in. He sighed heavily and his head bobbed until it settled peacefully on Dream’s shoulder.</p><p>Dream’s chuckle was a pleasant tickle on his body. George smiled against his shoulder and murmured, “Shush.”</p><p>“Sleep well, Georgie.”</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em> “Okay, what about this one?” Dream pointed at a big, burly man wearing what looked like half of a meatball helmet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was eleven again, sitting at their special place with Dream swiping through his comic collection, excited to talk to his best friend about his favorite superheroes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “No idea.” George grinned when Dream let out a frustrated groan. He slumped his back against the tree, sitting on his side comfortably and skimming at the pictures in Dream’s old comic book. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “His name is Juggernaut! He’s a really strong bad guy who fights the X-Men and Wolverine.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And Wolverine is…” Dream sent him an expectant look. George’s eyes narrowed, thinking hard. “The one with claws?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Yes!” Dream raised his fist in triumph before hurrying to grab another comic book and swiping through the pages in a rush. George laughed at his clumsy enthusiasm. “Okay, next!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He turned the book so George could see it. There was a guy wearing a fish suit and holding a trident at his side. His cocky grin was oh-so familiar, with one hand holding the middle of his belt. George snorted. “Is it you?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dream rolled his eyes. “His name is Aquaman. He’s the king of the sea!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Aquaman? More like fish dude. Why do you even like all of these guys?” He grabbed a book from his stack and opened it to a random page. “What even is this? Arm-fall-out-boy? Animal-Vegetable-Mineral man? Squirrel girl? This is so stupid!” He tossed the comic books one by one onto the stack until he got tired of looking through the too-colorful and worn out drawings. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “They’re superheroes, George! Well, except Animal-Vegetable-Mineral man. But anyway, it’s like that Harry Potter guy you read about.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Harry Potter is different.” George pouted, taking offense to his favorite fictional character being compared to lame, old super-powered figures nobody even cared to remember. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh, really? He has powers, he’s been chosen, and he’s supposed to fight against an evil noseless guy. What is not superhero-like about that?” His cocky smirk was annoying. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>  “Okay but what’s the point?” He grabbed a comic book, shaking it lightly in his hand and making a face as he pointed at it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What’s the point of all those fantasy novels you read about?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George put the book back and considered the question seriously for a moment. His novels were a source of relief for him, a way to escape from real life. It helped him cope with his inability to control his powers to their full extent and the insecurity of his future. Sarah had told him in order to harness his powers, he had to stop being scared of them. Yet it was a difficult task to accomplish when everyone spent their time fearing him—like he was some sort of monster. But his fantasy worlds, if only for a short time, always convinced him otherwise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Hope.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dream smiled, his finger tracing over the picture of Aquaman lightly. The twinkle in his eyes was there—the one that made George smile every time. This was no exception. “I want to help people when I grow up, be like them. To save them from the bad guys.” Their eyes met. “Because real people have done a crappy job at saving us.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George stared in admiration momentarily before murmuring, “I wish I could be like you.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dream answered almost instantly. “But you can, George! Join me!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What? You’re recruiting people for a superhero team now?” George snorted, shaking his head faintly at his friend’s optimism. If only. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You’re such an idiot,” Dream wheezed, leaning his weight on his shoulder a bit, and George slapped his arm lightly to push him back, though affectionately if his impish smile was anything to believe. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “In the future. You, me, and Sapnap. We can make our own superhero group. We’ll help people. Together.” His voice was so confident George couldn’t help but entertain the thought. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George pursed his lips, his smile half-falling. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be good enough with my powers.” </em>
</p><p><em> “When you do-” He put his arm around George, even gave his hair a noogie to which George shoved him away with an escaped laugh. “And </em> <b> <em>you will</em> </b> <em> !” The sparkle in his eyes made his chest feel full, unable to entertain a single negative thought. “We’ll make it happen!” </em></p><p>
  <em> “Promise?” George asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dream’s smile was so contagious, always convincing George that meeting him was the best thing to ever happen in his life. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I promise.” </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>George stirred awake to the sound of latin music, heels clicking on the wooden floor, people chit-chatting, and glasses clinking. The celeste sky was clear, not a single fluff of white in the distance. Heat rained down on him, already feeling the uncomfortable sunburn developing on his arms.</p><p>“Mornin,’” Dream’s breathy whisper tickled his ear, and George jerked away from him upon realizing they were practically spooning. His face was hotter than the temperature as he jumped to his feet, clearing his throat.</p><p>Dream burst into laughter, slapping the floor beside him hysterically as he sat up.</p><p>“We fell asleep out here?”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t even remember when I fell asleep.” Dream stood up, stretching his long limbs and watching the morning sky with a huge beam, bed hair full on display despite not having slept in the comfort of one.</p><p>The cruise horn bellowed, and over the speakers, a voice announced, “We will be arriving at Miami dock in half an hour.”</p><p>“Hear that? We’re about to land.”</p><p>George gulped, smiling nervously. “Yeah…”</p><p>“You alright?”</p><p>“Just, nervous, I guess.” He scratched his arm timidly, his eyes fixated on the thin line of land visible in the horizon.</p><p>“It’ll be fine.” Dream patted his head like a dog, and George pushed his hand away with an annoyed smile. “Let’s go find Sapnap and Skeppy.”</p><p>The two weren’t hard to find. Turns out, they’d already gathered their stuff and were outside of their door by the time Dream and George got there. Skeppy handed Dream his backpack with both eyebrows raised, glancing in between the two questioningly.</p><p>“Well, look who showed up.” Sapnap’s suggestive smile made George slap him in the arm and mutter something about him being a massive idiot, red-tint not failing to erupt in his face. It was becoming too much of a common occurrence.</p><p>“So far, so good, but we’re not in Florida yet so let’s try to not get caught, alright, team?” Dream declared as they headed for the deck which was more full than before.</p><p>“Oh look who it is, Sapnap. Your failed dates.” George half-pointed at the girls by the tiki bar with a bemused expression. The blonde one who had been eyeing Dream the day before caught sight of them and offered a flirty smile and a shy wave toward said boy.</p><p>“I think they’re walking over guys, act cool!” Sapnap leaned against the railing and crossed his arms, whistling lightly like he hadn’t noticed the girls. George huffed, elbowing his stomach to which Sapnap muttered some unpleasantries and cleared his throat after, grin spreading wide.</p><p>The girls stopped in front of them, and Dream raised both eyebrows when the middle one offered a hand that he shook, slowly.</p><p>“Hi there!” She stood with one finger twirling her hair and a spark of tease in her eyes, her other hand rooted on her hip. “I’m Stephanie. I’m surprised I didn’t notice you until yesterday. Was it your first time hanging out at the pool since the cruise started?”</p><p>“Yeah, basically, my friend doesn’t like being out on the deck too often.” Dream signaled toward Sapnap whose glare reserved a special kind of fire for Dream. One of the girls coughed in a grossed out manner.</p><p>“Oh, that’s alright.” She stepped forward, crossing her arms and smiling up at him. George pursed his lips, the green in his stomach more intense than in other instances. He shifted in his spot, slightly turning away from the scene. “Soooo… What’s your name?”</p><p>“Well, I’m Dream, and these are my friends Sapnap, Skeppy, and George.” He backed up closer to George at the mention of his name, their arms touching as he did. George felt the need to pull away.</p><p>“Nice to meet you. What brings you guys around here?”</p><p>“Just heading to Florida like everyone else.”</p><p>“Oh, really? Traveling with anybody else? Family? Class?” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and George had to admit she was a bit intimidating. “Maybe a girlfriend?”</p><p>George couldn’t tell if his best friend was acting oblivious to her advances or if he really was oblivious but Dream answered with a simple, “Nah. Just a guy’s trip.”</p><p>“Oh, that sounds fun!” Stephanie brightened up. Her hand reached into the pocket of her dress and slipped out her phone, long nails tapping on the glass. “Do you have Fastgram? We should add each other.”</p><p>“I don’t actually.”</p><p>Stephanie raised an eyebrow, lips slightly agape like he’d said something shocking. “You don’t have Fast?”</p><p>“Nope.”</p><p>“Uh… How do you talk to your friends then? Text messaging?” she exhaled with light laughter as she glanced at her friends.</p><p>The sound of the intercom announcing there was ten minutes until docking interrupted them.</p><p>“Look, I don’t mean to cut the conversation short, but we have to go.” He turned without another word, taking George’s arm lightly and pulling him the other direction.</p><p>The next events happened too quickly for George to process. Stephanie’s offended expression caught his attention, and without realizing it, he ran into a waiter carrying a plate on one hand who proceeded to fall backwards onto a couple taking pictures with their baby by the rails to catch some dolphins in the distance. Within three seconds, the baby slipped from the woman’s grasp and she let out a blood-curdling shriek as her child flew off the ledge, hand reaching for it but not making it.</p><p>Though Dream was quick to reach for the kid, it wasn’t enough to catch him, and on instinct, George raised his arm, levitating the baby before it could fall any further down. There was a second of silence, the crowd around them completely still and aghast as they gaped at them. The baby screeched, aching for his mother’s hold.</p><p>His hand trembled as he raised the child back to its mother’s arms, and she held it tightly against her chest as she backed away from them, gasping softly with tears in her eyes. The man beside her raised a shaky finger at him, raising his other arm to block the woman as if George was intending to hurt them.</p><p>“He’s a Psychic!” One of the girls behind them shrieked, and chaos erupted in the span of a few seconds.</p><p>“Someone call security!”</p><p>“Stay away from him!”</p><p>“He tried to throw a baby off the ship!”</p><p>Although George was glued to his spot, his blood frozen and his ears ringing, unable to react to anything but the spurts of panic striking him from every direction, Dream wasn’t. He grabbed onto his arm and pulled him forcefully forward, his friends following them as they hurried down the hallway, scrambling through the confused and scared crowd. They barely managed to evade a few of the security guards coming at them with Skeppy swiping them to the side with a dash of wind, careful not to throw them off the balcony because George was too in shock to do anything besides be dragged.</p><p>“Don’t let them escape!”</p><p>“Catch them!”</p><p>Voices screamed behind them, and George’s heartbeat obscured any other sound as they ran, the faint music and panicked shrieks turning into background noise. Without Dream carrying most of his weight and weaving through the people for them, he’d likely would’ve already collapsed.</p><p>They reached the other end of the ship without an exit route, the guards hot on their tails.</p><p>“What do we do!?” Skeppy exclaimed in a rush as he reached the railing, his hands gripping it until his knuckles turned white.</p><p>Over his shoulder, George could see the guards coming at them with their weapons drawn, most of their faces also clouded with fear. Their hands were trembling as they spoke into their radios and readied their weapons. George swallowed, adrenaline assaulting the whole of him and making his blood buzz like he was a ticking time bomb. His head was screaming at him, voices and emotions from all the bystanders surrounding them on repeat.</p><p>“We jump.”</p><p>“What!?” Sapnap glanced at Dream like he’d lost his mind.</p><p>They were close to the dock, and it’d only be a few dozen yards of swimming if they did jump. Besides, there was no way they’d get out of this one unscathed if they exited the ship normally.</p><p>“Skeppy, you’re going to have to launch us as far as you can.”</p><p>“It won’t be far.”</p><p>“It doesn’t matter!” Dream jumped onto the railing, helping George up as he did and holding tightly onto his arm like he’d slip away at any second. They locked eyes. “George, you’re going to have to help Skeppy with this one.”</p><p>“I don’t think I can.” His hands were trembling, and the guards were shouting at them to put their hands up behind them.</p><p>“George!” Dream grabbed his shoulders and held him still. Every noise but his voice dissipated in that moment, time frozen around them. “I need you to trust me. You can do this. Get us as far as you can. Just focus on me, okay? Focus on me.”</p><p>His gaze held not a single ounce of doubt, and George struggled to nod, hands unable to stop trembling and his heart pounding like a shotgun continuously going off in his ears.</p><p>“It’s now or never!”</p><p>The four clutched each other’s hands, turning toward the dock. “Ready. Set. Go!”</p><p>George shut his eyes tightly, letting his mind wrap around Dream’s as he felt a push of air throw them over the railing. His hands pointed downwards, and he took a deep breath before levitating them. </p><p>They were in the air for a shorter time than it felt, and when the impact of the ocean finally hit him, George’s body submerged into it whole, tendrils of water burning his nostrils until a hand pulled him up by the back of his shirt. He gasped, his eyes meeting Dream’s first.</p><p>It took his ears a moment to adjust and realize that Dream was screaming at him.</p><p>“Hurry! Climb!”</p><p>Someone behind him nudged his arm, and he noticed they were right next to the wooden dock, Sapnap’s hand reaching down for him. He took it, and they got out of the water, hurriedly running down the platform and passing by some confused bystanders.</p><p>The rest of their run was a blur. George only remembered Dream’s grip on his arm the whole way as they crossed the streets and docked through alleys until they were sure nobody was on their pursuit.</p><p>They finally stopped to regroup at an empty park pavilion, catching their breaths for a few minutes and sitting down to rest. Dream helped George settle on one of the benches and kept his hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles that allowed George to empty his head.</p><p>They were quiet as they moved to dry themselves off. George avoided their gazes, trying to focus on anything but the image of the terrified passengers as they escaped from the ship.</p><p>“Well… That was the most epic run from trouble I’ve ever pulled off.” Skeppy attempted to ease the tension as he pulled off his t-shirt to strain some of the dampness from it. He used his hand like a hair dryer to make the process easier.</p><p>“No kidding.” Sapnap followed his suit, opting for opening a flame in his palm to dry himself off.</p><p>With a tone void of emotion, Dream said, “Let’s get out of these wet rags and buy our bus tickets so we can head to my family’s getaway cabin. We’ll rest for the night and then take the truck and some emergency funds we have hidden. Sound good?”</p><p>“We’re going to steal from your parents?” Sapnap raised both eyebrows as he directed Dream a look.</p><p>“I call this a good enough emergency.”</p><p>“Will they know we’ve been there?” George said, hugging his arms from the soft breeze blowing under the shadow of the pavilion and the chills on his skin despite the hot temperature, like something was standing right behind him. He looked over his shoulder, searching the empty park grounds but finding no one there.</p><p>“By the time they find out, we’ll be long gone.”</p><p>“You okay there, George?” He noticed Sapnap’s curious gaze focused on him.</p><p>“Fine,” he managed, crossing his arms and rubbing his sides.</p><p>“You look pale,” said Dream, his eyebrows scrunched up as he stepped closer to examine him.</p><p>George chewed on his bottom lip and his voice trembled when he asked, “Are we sure we can do this? We saw what- what just happened back there. What if we fail?”</p><p>The five seconds of silence that followed didn’t help George’s uncertainty. It also didn’t help when Skeppy replied with, “Of course we can-<em> will </em>.”</p><p>On any other occasion, George wouldn’t have taken notice of the missing beat between his words, the subtle dread slipping through even when sporting his well-acted smirk. “Don’t be dumb,” Skeppy chuckled, and George could tell he was more so trying to reassure himself than George.</p><p>At the distant sound of children laughing over the hill, Dream sighed, not offering an opinion on George’s question and instead saying, “Let’s go before someone calls the cops on us.”</p><p>George didn’t miss the dreadful thought that slipped through behind his words. He didn’t comment on it, either. There was no need. Because he was right.</p><p>
  <em> We don’t have the option to fail.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Art by @thal-chandra on tumblr &amp; twitter</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is brought to you by hours of tears, countless revisions, many "I hate writing" 's, and reading a really good writing book only thinking, "man, my story is crap if I had to have done this much mapping out before even writing the first sentence..."</p><p>Anyway, this story received r/Fanfiction's 2020 Best RPF Award somehow!? So thanks for everyone who voted, y'all are so awesome! I love you all!!!</p><p><b>Important Updates:</b> This story will be updated every other Sunday from now on since I am starting my semester as a miserable math major again and I have a lot of other responsibilities to take care of, not to mention these chapters take hours upon hours to write and revise. Also would like to take the time to say that y'all sharing and enjoying this story means the world to me! Thank you so much for all your support, I never thought this would be my biggest project of all things. Additionally, I don't mind fan art for this story (on the contrary, I talk about it nonstop to my friends and smile 24/7 when it happens), but if you'd like to do any writing remotely related to this universe, please, please, please, contact me beforehand. This is an original universe I might one day publish in and I don't want to run across legal problems in the future.</p><p>Thank y'all so much for all you do for me and for putting such a big smile on my face with your comments and thoughts! &lt;3</p><p>Muchisimos Abrazos,<br/>Light</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Floridian Green Man on the Loose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As usual, thanks Grav, Winter, and Grass for their wonderful input! They are literally my guardian angels as I write this. <b>Important update announcements in the ending note, make sure to read it!</b></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>“And what are you going to do about it, Psychic?” the guy two years above George taunted after shoving him to the side and knocking his textbook from his hands in the middle of the hallway. He stood akimbo in front of George with a sick smile and his chest puffed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ethan was his name—a show-off shifter type whose primary form was a bear. He looked like one too, standing about a head taller than George and with a personality as big as his forearms. He was itching for a fight, probably his messed up way of showing off his toughness. He was a transfer, and to George’s knowledge, he’d barely started at AGE a month ago. There were rumors he had been kicked out of his last school for almost killing a classmate during a fight. However, others theorized it hadn’t been completely his fault as specialized shifter schools were notoriously the toughest EM schools around and unless you stood your ground and grew a thick skin, they were impossible to survive. What Ethan didn’t realize was that unlike the rumors circulating the school made him out to be, George was anything but tough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t want to fight,” he murmured while kneeling down to pick up his books. He flinched when Ethan kicked his book across the floor until it landed against someone’s feet. His eyes traced up to find a boy with circular glasses and a kind aspect.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, Ethan, that’s not nice, you muffin!” The boy took George’s book and then helped him to his feet, handing it to him with a soft smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ethan scoffed. “This is none of your business.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It is my business if it means my classmate is getting bullied.” The boy frowned, stepping in front of George with a stern expression. He was about George’s height, maybe even a bit shorter, and he radiated the complete opposite of intimidation—more like a stuffed bear you’d hug after a long night.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“This is between me and him. So </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>get lost</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>.” Ethan stepped closer, towering over the newcomer. But despite the boy’s short height and geeky appearance, he didn’t back down. Swallowing, George tapped on the boy’s shoulder and told him it was fine, if anything for the sake of preventing them both from being broken in half like a toothpick, but the boy ignored him and instead continued to stare down Ethan. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There was already a crowd forming around them, a lot of nosy faces poking into the circle and whispers going around. George bit his tongue, not wanting to cause a bigger scene. Maybe he could slip out unnoticed? But did he really want to leave the boy by himself with a humongous jerk?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Before George could make a decision, an unfamiliar voice joined the conversation. “Ethan, you dumb-face, leave them alone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A tan-boy with dark eyes coupled with a very nice pair of eyebrows and a black spiky mess of hair entered the scene. With his hands buried in the pockets of his light-blue hoodie embroidered with a goofy face logo and his troublemaker grin, he stopped next to the kind boy. He was a little shorter and despite his laid-back posture, his assurance was unwavering. He yawned like he had something better to do, and Ethan narrowed his eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ethan huffed as he glimpsed in between them, moving back and deciding three wasn’t worth the fight, though if the rumors were true, George had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t because he couldn’t take them. “Can’t even defend yourself, loser. Whatever.” Then he pushed through the crowd, stomping away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Seeing an anticlimactic end to the confrontation, the crowd dispersed, and George was left by himself with the two boys.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Skeppy, I had it handled!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Uh-huh, like you had that argument with the goth girl under control last week?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I wasn’t going to fight a girl!” The first boy pouted, his glasses falling slightly crooked on his nose. “Not that I was going to fight Ethan either. Not everything is resolved by fighting. Can’t we just all be nice to each other?” He crossed his arms. “Besides I saw you chanting ‘fight’ in the crowd. You only stepped in because </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>I</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> did.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Skeppy rolled his eyes, his smirk still intact. “You know, Bad, your nickname makes no sense. Remind me how you convinced us to use it again?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George coughed uncomfortably, feeling like he was intruding in their… whatever it was they were having. However, they either didn’t hear him or chose to ignore him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I didn’t even choose it!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Skeppy thought for a second before an imaginary lightbulb turned on over his head. “Oh, yeah. Finn called you a bad boy after you decorated a Skeppy-themed room and cupcakes with my face on it for the class during April Fools, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You weren’t supposed to laugh! It was supposed to be embarrassing!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad’s eyes landed on George who was still standing awkwardly in between them. “Oh, how rude of me. I completely forgot to introduce myself.” He took George’s hand without hesitation and shook it rather briskly, his beam huge. “I’m Bad, and this little muffin is Skeppy. You’re that Psychic from year six, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George nodded, taking back his hand and holding them both sheepishly behind him along with his book. He couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with Bad’s nonchalant attitude about his class. Even after years of attending AGE, his peers still acted hesitant toward him, albeit it was a lot better than in his first year, but it wasn’t common for people to just outright approach him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s awesome! I’ve never talked to a Psychic. What’s your name, again?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, George, I’m sorry about Ethan bothering you. That mean potato doesn’t have any manners.” He shook his head in disapproval. “Do you want to eat lunch with us? We’re heading to the mess hall right now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The invitation took him by surprise, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked between the two with suspicion. Skeppy seemed too distracted staring at something at the end of the hallway to offer an opinion on the subject. “You’re inviting </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>me</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>? To eat with you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, that’s what I said!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was Bad’s turn to look confused. “Why not?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, I mean, you don’t think I’m-” George swallowed as he spotted a few passerbys giving him the side-eye. His grasp on his book tightened and he looked away hesitantly. Confronting new people was difficult without Sapnap or Dream by his side, and he always found himself reverting to old nervous habits.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad’s smile only grew. “You seem like a cool person.” He took hold of his wrist and dragged George down the hallway, Skeppy following next to him. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George opened his eyes with a jolt. It took him a moment to realize where he was: the soft rumbling of the bus engine, the wheels against the road, and the occasional cough and mutter in the background. His nose scrunched at the disgusting smell of dirty clothes, cigarette breath and piss penetrated into his seat. Beside him, Dream got comfortable in his spot. The bus swayed as it hit a bump, and in the front, a baby wailed awake when a bag from the overhang crashed to the ground.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He leaned back on the seat, one hand gripping the scratchy fabric of the armrest and the other opening the curtains slightly to peak outside. They were in the middle of nowhere driving by a thick forest with only a few signs listing the next stops dozens of miles ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He let the curtain close again, the sliver of light disappearing and leaving them in the dimness of the thin sunbeams spilling from the front of the bus. A lady in the seats in front of him shifted, muttering something to the man next to her who reached up at the little television a seat ahead and turned up the volume on the news channel that was on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>-continue to enforce unapproved anti-ability regulation in states all over the South, requiring EMs to register themselves and parents to enroll their children in special schools thousands of miles away. In Seattle, the heart of the EMpower movement, the new group that calls itself the Bergman Defenders continues to vandalize and break into anti-EM corporations. Mark Bryan, the director of Project Salvida, a human services organization in favor of restricting the rights of EMs, has this to say about it.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p><span>“</span><em><span>The explosion that killed three innocents and injured countless more in Japan last month. The riots in Paris that took armed forces to the streets. The destruction of government property in Brazil after enforcing proper restricting legislation. The vandalization of the corporations that act as a backbone to our society in Seattle,</span></em><span>”</span> <span>his tone spilled venom, and it nearly brought a shiver out of George, “</span><em><span>These people are dangerous, and supporters of the EMpower movement only want to limit the rights of ordinary folk who wish to protect themselves and their families. It’s even in their name! You mean to tell me they want to empower these people who already have these dangerous and unstable abilities? For what? So they can overthrow our government? Hijack our media? Our lives?</span></em><span>”</span></p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Project Salvida is hosting a convention in the coming days to raise funds for its cause and sign a resolution that-”</span>
  </em>
  <span> The channel switched to an old romance movie, leaving a bad taste in George’s mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re assholes is what they are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned to Dream, realizing he wasn’t asleep like he’d thought. On the seats next to him, Skeppy and Sapnap were both snoozing. Sapnap’s mouth was open wide enough to catch the fly buzzing around them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They forget we’re citizens too.” Dream’s voice was loud enough for only George to hear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know what I mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded, absent-mindedly rolling a thread poking out of the armrest between his fingers. He hated the topic of Extramundane movements across the states, if anything because it always upset him to remember how many people despised his existence. Despite its drawbacks, the island had always been the safest place for George, a sort of haven frozen in time where he could actively avoid hearing about the persecution and hate for their people. But they were in the real world now, and George, once again, felt like an imposter among the common folk like he had all those years ago before his parents surrendered him to AGE.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think the Bergman Defenders are heroes.” Dream’s fingers tapped his lap impatiently. “They give those shitty companies what they deserve, and assholes like Bryan who talk about us like we’re the bad guys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s front teeth toyed with the loose piece of skin on his lips. Dream’s anger strained on his neck muscles, and not having the energy to handle it, George blocked it out. A crowded and cramped bus was the absolute worst place for his powers to lash out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes swept over the pictures on the screen to distract him: a commercial about a lonely elementary-aged boy in the playground who made friends with his classmates after sharing a candy bar with them. It reminded him of his fifth birthday when he’d watched an older girl grow a flower at the park. The way she’d smiled and approached George in his little birthday hat and offered him the lily as a gift. The way his mother had hurriedly pulled him away and told him to not interact with </span>
  <em>
    <span>those bad people</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The way she’d answered him after he’d asked what made them so bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They only cause trouble, sweetie. Promise me you’ll be really careful, okay? You shouldn’t get too close.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know if I agree with the way they’re going about things though…” George blurted out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream looked like he’d just been slapped on the face. With a frown, his lips parted slightly, words on the load. “How could you not? You of all people, George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s only giving us a worse reputation.” He swallowed. “A bigger reason to hate us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’d rather not do anything and pretend it’s all fine then?” Dream’s sudden funnel of exasperation and outrage onto George was strong enough to wreck their mind block. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips, tips of his fingers tightening on the thread of his seat until they ripped it off. “I didn’t say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Doing nothing isn’t going to help anyone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Energy verged on his fingertips. A luggage bag crashed to the ground beside them, the man in front of them releasing a confused yelp as he got up to push it back into place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Not here,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” George strained through gritted teeth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He squeezed his eyes shut, pressing the back of his head hard against the seat, digging his nails into the armrests and focusing on anything other than the vortex of emotion threatening to burst out of him. The latest book he was reading, the rumbling tires against the road, the baby in the front randomly bursting into tears again. In front of them, the couple began to argue all of the sudden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream exhaled a mix between a huff and a humorless snort. His aura dissipated as their mind block rose again. “I’ll be back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When his breathing calmed, George opened his eyes early enough to see Dream raise his hood and walk toward the back of the bus. The couple in front of him turned off the television, their argument having ceased, and all he could hear was the quiet bus ambient again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, Skeppy stirred awake, his gaze unfocused and his lips a thin line like he’d just woken up from a surreal dream. George couldn’t help the pang of concern. Worry was a rare sight for Skeppy seeing his quirk of mischief and the energetic way he carried himself. Most especially because Skeppy was one of the biggest optimists he knew next to Bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unsure of what to tell him but still wanting to reassure him, George settled for saying, “We’re going to find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy seemed taken aback by the sudden statement, and he quickly slipped on a smile, letting out a strained, “Of course we will.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But George could feel the concern veiled beneath a layer of snark and confidence. Seeing as Skeppy appeared uncomfortable opening up, he chose not to comment on it. Instead, he said, “It’s Bad,” and he managed to pair it with a small smile. “He’s a tough cookie. How do you think he’s survived all of your dumb pranks?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The comment earned a snort out of Skeppy. “Yeah,” is all he chose to reply with, his face turned away so George couldn’t see it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t deserve this.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George hadn’t realized he’d been so focused on Skeppy until the thought jumped out at him, resonating inside his head. Although he wanted to agree with him, he figured Skeppy wouldn’t be happy with George using his telepathy on him, even if accidentally, so he swallowed his words and looked the other way, the faint echo of Bad’s bright laughter overtaking his thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart leapt out of his chest, both from feeding off of Skeppy’s dread and his own concern bubbling inside, aching to be released in some way. He contained it, locked it away in the abyss of his mind and threw away the key. Then he turned to the window, his fingers once again grazing the curtains to open them. The sun had settled down, greyness overtaking the fields of wheat beside the road, a gentle rumble growling in the sky and a flash of white striking the lands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tiny specks of water hit the window, the once beautiful blue skies hollering in pain. They followed a gradual pattern, quickening until they pitter-pattered against the glass to the rhythm of a forsaken lullaby. He let the curtains close, and he leaned his head back, shutting his eyes and inhaling deeply. Next to him, he felt Dream slump on the cushioned seat after he returned, silent as ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dozed off to the sound of a thunderstorm brewing behind the horizon.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Can you guys help me get back at Vurb?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George and Sapnap glimpsed at each other before sending Skeppy a questioning glance. He had just walked in between them during their passing period and slid both arms around them, comfortably interrupting their conversation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What did he do?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He filled Bad’s dorm room with cups of liquid laxatives yesterday.” He snorted, shaking his head. “Let’s just say Bad realized it wasn’t actually water too late.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap cackled, stopping in the middle of the hallway and clutching the wall of lockers beside him to calm down. George joined him in his laughter, not quite as loud but loud enough it earned a roll of Skeppy’s eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t you love trolling Bad? Why would you want to get back at Vurb?” George’s eyes twinkled with intrigue. Skeppy and Bad had always had such a unique dynamic, one George had struggled to understand even with his empathy. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because…” Skeppy muttered, thinking hard to come up with an answer.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He just hates the fact someone else has Bad’s attention,” Sapnap managed through his harsh breathing from his maniac laughter, swiping a small tear off his cheek.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll help you sabotage Fundy’s suit if you help me with this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap’s eyes lit up. He smirked like an idiot and cleared his throat. Adopting an overblown tone of voice and hooking his arm around Skeppy’s shoulders, he said, “So about this proposition, Mr. Skeppy…” as they headed down the hallway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George lightly shook his head at the immaturity of his friends. A few feet in front of them, one of the classroom doors opened and Bad exited, his face brightening when he spotted them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hey, guys! What’s up?” he asked as he approached them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Skeppy dismissively swiped his hand as he moved past Bad with Sapnap at his side. “Not now, Bad, a little busy at the moment. But we’ll see you later!” They walked off without another word, leaving George chuckling to himself and Bad appearing as confused as ever.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What was that about?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sure you’ll find out soon.” George rolled his eyes. He opened his locker to shove his books in, checking the time and finding it to be a few minutes before lunchtime. When he noticed Bad was still next to him leaning against the lockers somewhat pensive, his curiosity got the best of him. “Hey, Bad, why are you and Skeppy like that?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The question snapped Bad out of whatever haze he was in, and he tilted his head the way a puppy would. “Like what?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Like he pranks you and you just kind of… deal with it? And you fight, but not really?” His eyebrows creased and he scratched the back of his head, unsure of how else to explain it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Geppy just enjoys being a dumb potato.” Bad shook his head as they fell into step with each other, making their way to the mess hall. The sides of his mouth caved in sweetly as he faded into a memory.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After taking a pause in comfortable silence, George elaborated on his question. “Have you two ever </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>really</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> fought though? I only ever see you having pointless arguments.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course we have, what kind of friends don’t?” Bad laughed to himself. “I remember this one time my parents picked me up for the summer, and I didn’t have time to say goodbye because the ferry was leaving, Skeppy was so mad when he called me the next day. I don’t think I’d ever heard him actually be that mad at me. He made me promise I’d never do that again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He was angry because you accidentally left without saying goodbye even though you could’ve just called him?” George chuckled. Of course Skeppy would be one to do that—he constantly clung to Bad’s side like a lost puppy no matter how many times Bad scolded him for his shenanigans.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad hummed in agreement, gaze distant as he looked out into the hallway. “Back then, he was just the annoying muffin who liked to mess with the shy loser in the back of the class. I didn’t realize he </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>actually</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> cared, you know? That’s when I started making an effort to treat him more like a friend.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Seems like an odd way to start a friendship.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Friends are weird like that. Sometimes you wonder if they’re made up because there’s no way you got lucky enough to find someone who cares that much about little ol’ you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George pondered his words while taking a second to admire the pretty spring day outside—flowers blooming on the bushes, a flock of birds migrating in the distance, two rabbits chasing each other and play-fighting in between the tall blades of grass.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I guess they are.” A soft smile spread on his cheeks, tender warmth enveloping his chest and making him giddy with joy, a mix of Bad’s emotions flocking him and his own as he considered how lucky he’d been too.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Behind them, a familiar voice shouted his name, his quick footing audible even from a dozen yards away, not embarrassed by his loudness in the middle of a semi-crowded hallway.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His beam grew impossibly big when he met George’s gaze, his eyes glistening like two gold emeralds.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“George!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s hand on his shoulder shook him awake. It took George a moment to process his surroundings. The bus had finally come to a stop, and the passengers were removing their luggage from the overhead. The couple in front of them was waiting patiently for an old lady to get up from the seat beside them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After making their way out, they took a taxi to Dream’s family’s place. It was a comfortable two-story shack in the woods. The honey oak structure and wooden foundation made it look like a tree house built on the ground. A few potted plants decorated the front below the windows and by the doors, and if George could see the colors, he’d probably be mesmerized by the vibrant hues of nature interacting with the oak structure, breathing life into the home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream had only mentioned this place a handful of times, but he’d always talked about it with more nostalgia and fondness than his own house growing up. They’d always been bright recollections of playing in the woods until dusk and jumping into the pond nearby pretending to be a swamp monster like in the comics he’d excitedly shown George. He always said his favorite was rocking on the hammock by the driveway and watching the sun descend into the canopy of trees, the warm colors melting away and welcoming the sea of stars—like they’d done from their tree back at the island. It was only here that George understood the extent of Dream’s love for nature and why he always insisted to play near their tree by the woods when they were younger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As they exited the car, the air was thick with post-rain humidity, faint rumbles still growling behind the clouds. The scent of pine was overwhelming, though not unwelcomed seeing as it smelled so much like Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once on the deck, Dream pulled out a key from one of the potted plants and used it to unlock the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, This place is sick! You’re telling me your parents can afford having a vacation house like </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Sapnap exclaimed as he stood in the middle of the entrance hall which had a semi-large staircase on the side and three arches leading to a hallway, the living room, and the kitchen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a </span>
  <em>
    <span>family</span>
  </em>
  <span> house. Technically, it’s not just my parents’.” Dream threw the keys into the bowl by the entrance and shut the door, the sound of the shower that had just broken out behind them now muffled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what you’re saying is your family has money,” Skeppy said while he examined a portrait of Dream’s family. George joined him in admiring the beautiful and massive photograph taking center stage at the entrance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His parents stood side by side while a younger Dream sat on a sofa with his little sister in front of them. His father’s hand rested on top of Dream’s shoulder, his mouth a straight line and his eyes stern. On the opposite side of the spectrum, his mother’s smile gleamed even through her vibrant eyes, her teeth as white and bright as Dream’s. His little sister, who was probably around three at the time of the photo, was distracted by her stuffed animal. Finally, there was Dream who had a shadow of a crooked smile painted on his expression, posture somewhat tense and rehearsed—a stranger hidden in plain sight. It reminded George of his own family.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snickered. “We’ll head out after breakfast tomorrow. I have clothing and a stack of cash to buy stuff on the go. We’ll take turns driving.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t drive,” George pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream rolled his eyes. “We,” he signaled to himself, Skeppy, and Sapnap. “- can take turns driving and George can have nap time in the backseat.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not a baby…” he muttered, though Dream continued speaking without acknowledging it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Any questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap raised his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where’s your bathroom? I’ve been about to burst for an hour now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot.” George laughed, barely avoiding Sapnap’s attempted elbow to his stomach.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Upstairs, last door to your left.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Awesome!” With that, he raced up the stairs, his friends chuckling behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The rest of the evening was spent ravaging the cabinets for food and ordering pizza once they realized there were only snacks. They huddled in the couches in the living room to watch old Disney movies. At one point during a marathon of the Lion King series, Dream, who was sprawled down on a blanket on the ground, excused himself to the kitchen to make more popcorn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Since they’d arrived from the bus stop, there had been a sort of tense aura about him around George. However, it hadn’t become obvious until he opted out of sitting on the desolate spot in the sofa next to George and instead took refuge on the floor. Even Sapnap and Skeppy were somewhat taken aback by the motion, but neither commented on it. Despite that, George didn’t miss the concerned passing glances Sapnap shot him throughout their movie marathon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Thus, when he saw Dream head into the kitchen, he decided he’d rather not spend the next day in awkward, tense silence during the trip they were about to embark on, and he took it as an opportunity to talk to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s back was to him when he stepped inside the expansive and semi-elegant kitchen. He stood in front of the microwave waiting for his popcorn to finish, his fingers tapping on the counter impatiently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he heard George lean against the counter behind him, he shot him a glance, tilting his head slightly and raising an eyebrow. His fingers stopped tapping, and forcing a grin, he asked, “Not excited to watch Mufasa die for the millionth time?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George snickered. The Lion King movies were some of their favorite classics, and he couldn’t count the times they’d rewatched them on cold December nights when Dream climbed three stories up the side of his building to sneak into his dorm. He plopped down on the bar chair and leaned both elbows on the counter as he silently studied Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Behind Dream, the kernels popped to the beat of the sluggish rain drops against the window.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been quiet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s gaze left George, instead taking an interest in the cross hanging above the small, wooden dining table in the corner. The dull lights above them flickered at the roar of another thunderbolt. “It’s nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George huffed, an unamused smile forming as he leaned his forehead on his hand. He debated whether to lower their mind block to peek inside his mind but ultimately decided against it in fear that he would only get more angry. He nibbled on the inside of his cheek. “Is it really?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The popping in the microwave came to a halt half a second before the machine signaled his snack was done. Dream didn’t seem to care for it and instead made himself comfortable against the counter, crossing his arms and meeting George’s gaze once more—murky yellow eyes drowning in earth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just don’t understand why you’re so against defending our people—</span>
  <em>
    <span>your</span>
  </em>
  <span> people.” He breathed out, crinkling his nose as he blinked his eyes closed for a moment too long. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yourself.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Outside, the rain picked up from its steady rate. George clicked his tongue, pressing his weight against the counter in a feeble attempt to lean closer despite the great distance between them. “It’s not that I’m against it. But it doesn’t mean I think disorder and breaking the law is the way to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t waste a second to reply. “The law is bullshit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t attempt to counter his statement. He was right. The law was grossly against Extramundanes, often belittling them and rendering them with harsher punishments for anything as simple as pick-pocketing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He toyed with the loose skin on his bottom lip. “Breaking the law gives them a worse image of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The roaring storm matched the fury spilling out of Dream and drowning George. “How else are we supposed to get anything done?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pursed his dry lips, his gaze alternating between Dream’s eyes and the window beside him, the tree branches swaying from the careless wind and striking the glass aggressively. “Look. I know you have this big goal to defend people and change this country’s fucked up views about us but if-” He took a breather from how quickly he was talking, his throat closing in on his words momentarily. “Just… Don’t forget our priority is saving Bad right now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know that, George.” Dream ran his fingers through his hair and breathed out in frustration, though it didn’t seem to be aimed at him. He stepped forward to lean his elbows on the opposing side of the counter, his eyes flickering with assurance. “I won’t forget.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They left the conversation at that, Dream retreating a few seconds after George didn’t respond to take his popcorn out of the microwave. Sapnap made his entrance after that, strolling in with a brow raised and a curiosity-killed-the-cat kind of aura to him. He shot George a questioning look that he answered to with a poker face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the hold up? I’ve been out of popcorn for like straight up ten minutes,” he whined like he’d been suffering from starvation, but George knew it wasn’t his reason for checking in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap stuck his tongue out like a little kid at George’s dry laugh and he mimicked the motion. Dream stepped in between them with the bowl of popcorn in hand, sighing like a fatigued father handling his two younglings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Here, knock yourself out.” He passed the bowl to Sapnap who didn’t waste a second to dig in, crunching on it and alternating glances at both of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did I interrupt something?” he asked, miraculously after swallowing as opposed to talking with his mouth full like he always did. “Lover’s quarrel, maybe?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smacked his arm to which Sapnap instantly shielded his popcorn bowl. Dream snickered. “Just chit-chatting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mhm.” Sapnap’s narrowed eyes indicated other thoughts, but he didn’t comment further. Instead, he pointed toward the picture frame beside the decorative fruit bowl on the counter. “How come we’ve never seen pictures of your family until now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream held a hand at his hip while the other rested at the counter comfortably. He shrugged. “It’s never been a topic of conversation.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s interest peaked at that, seeing as it had always been a topic the three of them mostly avoided—family life tended toward that route with most of the students at AGE considering many had been sent away against their consent or had complicated situations. However, now, sitting here in Dream’s kitchen and getting a glimpse of his home life, albeit a vague one, he realized how curious he felt. After all, he’d only ever gotten a passing glance at Dream’s parents when they came to pick him up for the breaks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Looks like now it is.” George raised both eyebrows, a faint smile playing out. He made it a point to get comfortable on his seat, and Sapnap followed suit, both appearing like kids ready for their bedtime story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are we really doing this right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We want to know,” Sapnap insisted, sending Dream his puppy eye look. “Pleeease?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream released an exhausted groan. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why were your parents so hesitant to enroll you in AGE?” George asked the first question before Sapnap could and stole a few pieces of popcorn from his bowl, earning a slap on the hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream shrugged, reaching for a popcorn too, throwing it in the air, and catching it in his mouth effortlessly. He seemed unaffected by the question, though George couldn’t be certain. Dream was an expert at hiding certain emotions and thoughts when set his mind to it, even in the presence of his telepathic best friend. Truthfully, it had always bothered George just how easy he could hide things from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They don’t like the ‘bad influence’” he used air quotes, “it gives me. They don’t exactly like me showing off my abilities either. Think it’s from the devil or something. Took me a lot to convince them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you?” It was Sapnap’s turn to ask a question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Told them if they let me stay, I’d stop using my powers outside of the island. Pretend I’m normal.” His nose crinkled at an unpleasant memory. “Thanksgiving dinners are the worst to sit through. They love getting political about things, always bashing on those ‘dangerous freaks’ or whatever.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know what you mean…” Sapnap muttered, and though they paused and waited for him to elaborate, he didn’t seem comfortable doing so. Instead, he asked his second question. “What does your sister think? Isn’t she like ten?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s face visibly brightened at the mention of his sister, slightly shaking his head and chuckling like he was reminiscing. “She thinks it’s the coolest thing ever. She found my comic collection a few years ago, and she talked non-stop about how I could be the next Captain America if I really tried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like brother, like sister.” George and Dream shared an amused grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are your parents going to do when they figure out we’ve stolen their money and taken their car on a road trip?” Sapnap settled for a half-serious question, throwing another popcorn at his mouth and missing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed, eyes crinkling and biting his lip with his front teeth not unlike a cute bunny. “They’ll probably kill me if we don’t die first.” Then he stepped back from the counter, stretching his arms and yawning. “But I’ll take being grounded for life in my premature coffin any day over leaving Bad to fend for himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sound of Dream’s increasingly hazy tone, George got up, settling for placing his hands on the counter and glancing in between them. “We should head to bed. Got a big day tomorrow.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy’s already snoring on the couch so... “ Sapnap turned to Dream. “Guess I’ll take the guest room?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah. I’ll take my parent’s and George can sleep outside,” Dream replied without missing a beat, bemused twinkle in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot. I’ll take </span>
  <em>
    <span>your </span>
  </em>
  <span>bedroom, thank you very much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sure you don’t want to nap outside Georgie? Maybe the crickets can sing you to sleep.” Sapnap played along.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George headed for the entrance hall, though not before slapping Sapnap on the back of the head one last time and rushing up the stairs before he could return the gesture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No running in the house, children!” Dream called from downstairs.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>Unfortunately for George, his rest proved to consist of an endless string of nightmare after nightmare—one sticking out among the rest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was standing in a void of black, so dark he could hardly see the silhouette of his hands when he raised them to his eyes. The only discernible sound was the faint ticking echoing his way like it was coming from a grandfather clock miles down a long corridor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tried to walk, but he found his feet were stuck to the ground, and when he looked down, he barely noticed the pitch-black tendrils poking out and snaking around his ankles like live serpents holding him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The eerie sensation of a shadow at his shoulder made him spin his neck in an instant, but as soon as he did, the presence moved in front of him. No matter how much he twisted in his spot, he couldn’t catch a single glimpse of it. It snuck over his shoulder, slid under him, levitated above him. It was omniscient—refusing to back down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With harsh breathing and his heart pumping out of his chest, his voice faltered, uneven and shaky. “What are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The presence didn’t respond. Instead, it leaned its weight on him, the force of a boulder falling on his shoulders and chest and phasing through his body, making it hard to take in oxygen and causing him to kneel down, his palms against the freezing ground. More tendrils phased through the ground and wrapped around his wrists, sucking him in like parasitic black quicksand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please- just- leave me alone!” he pleaded as more continued their ascent, sliding into his open mouth and down his throat, strangling him from the inside. The more he struggled, the worse it got until his eyes were teary, his throat was raw, and blood was spilling from the sides of his mouth, his vocal chords unable to do much but release a soundless shriek.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He woke up with a literal bang after he slipped off the bed, his covers wrapped around both his legs and sputtering out short, heavy gasps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took him a few seconds to catch his breath, disoriented from the unfamiliar room and the morning sun rays blinding him. A knock at the door startled him, and he scrambled to his feet, opening the door to see a half-asleep Dream in front of him, tired gaze and chaotic morning hair on display.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I heard a crash. Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nearly choked on his words, but he managed a half-shaky, “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t appear convinced, wiping his eyes and narrowing them when he took a better look at him. His eyes landed on the hallway mirror propped on the coffee table behind Dream. George looked like a mess, hair pointing in all directions, perspiration all over his face, neck and t-shirt and a ghostly hue to his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look like crap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George chuckled dryly. “I just… had a nightmare is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s firm gaze didn’t waver, but he hesitantly accepted his excuse. He scratched the back of his neck, yawning and stretching his limbs before saying, “I’m gonna go cook breakfast. Go…” He eyed him up and down. “... take a shower or something. There’s clothes in the drawers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He disappeared down the stairs after that, and George staggered back into the room, clutching the sides of the bed stand momentarily, focused on the brim of light peeking through the blinds. Behind him, an indistinct murmur chilled his neck, and he jerked to his side, his eyes searching the lone room frantically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wiped the sweat from his brow, his breathing unsettled and his fingers trembling. He avoided his reflection as he searched the drawers until he found a faded band shirt and a pair of adjustable black sweats. As he exited the hallway to head to the bathroom, he ran into Sapnap coming out of his bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Woah.” He halted, taking a long look at him. “You look like shit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks.” George rolled his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Rough night?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap patted his shoulder, nodding along and saying, “Go shower. You smell like shit too.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>At Sapnap’s laugh, George swiped past him, letting out an indignant huff and walking into the restroom. After a quick wash, he changed and headed downstairs, a little more calm than before, though the ticking in his nightmare still distantly resonated inside his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of sizzling and the scent of bacon grease swarmed his nostrils as he neared the kitchen. He was met with the oddly domestic scene of Dream dressed in a pink apron with a pan on the stove, Skeppy raiding the fridge with a piece of toast in his mouth, and Sapnap attempting to figure out how the waffle maker worked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He froze, a shadow of a smile on his expression as he took in the unusual situation. Then he set himself on the bar stool behind the counter, reaching for the control and turning on the TV by the window. It was set to a news channel, and upon hearing the mention of the Bergman Defenders be brought up, he changed the channel until he found some old silly slapstick cartoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mornin’ George,” Skeppy said as he sat down next to him, spreading jam on his half-eaten toast above a napkin and making a mess on his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George turned up his nose at that, but he muttered a quiet, “Good morning,” back as his eyes took in the forest scene outside, wet and broken tree branches dancing to the calming wind’s song, contrasting the heavy storm that had ravaged the skies overnight. A faded blue peaked in between the gaps atop the higher trees, slivers of light slipping through to the beat of the breeze and making the drops stuck to the leaves sparkle. The churning in his stomach calmed, and he found himself breathing slower, his nightmare slipping to the back of his thoughts and the wonders of the new day taking over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snapped out of it as Dream slapped a cup down in front of him, regarding him with interest, a silent questioning in his gaze. Then he poured him some apple juice, and George eagerly took it in, almost downing it in one go, now aware of the sudden thirst overtaking him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was still staring at George when he looked up from the glass, his elbows perched on the counter in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When George didn’t say anything and instead glanced toward the pan on the stove, Dream sighed in defeat, pulling back to serve them breakfast, though not before sending George his we’re-going-to-talk-about-this-later look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why is it so quiet?” Sapnap was the first to speak, his mouth full. He had figured out the waffle situation and was now awaiting his treat beside it, chomping on an apple in the meantime. He leaned both elbows on the counter behind him, glancing in between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy shrugged, wiping his hands with his dirty napkin and licking the bit of jam on his lips. “Cause you decided to shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ha-ha.” Sapnap was unimpressed. “I could throw a fireball at you right now. It’ll wake you right up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please don’t burn down the house. My parents will kill me twice if you do.” Dream settled two plates on the counter and served them some eggs and bacon, sliding one toward George when he was done.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dug in instantly. “Since when do you know how to cook?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snickered, biting down on his eggs. “Since I had a sister.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He snorted and moved his attention toward the pan. “I thought you said there wasn’t any food?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I drove to the shop five minutes away to buy some supplies since we’re going to need them. Might as well have a decent breakfast while we’re at it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s the plan, boys?” Sapnap interrupted, the waffle maker coughing up a cloud of smoke behind him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap!” Dream pushed him away and instantly opened it, using a rag to blow out the smoke. George almost choked at the scene of Dream in his pink apron fanning the waffle maker like a housemother with a pouting Sapnap beside him. “If you set off the fire alarm my parents will know you idiot!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Geez.” Sapnap peeked over his shoulder at his burnt waffles, a pleading puppy dog look in his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream rolled his eyes and split his serving in half to share with Sapnap. After all potential crises were handled, he returned to his place in front of Skeppy and George, setting his tablet down and pulling up a map.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Travel from here to Seattle is fifty-two hours.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nearly coughed up his apple juice. “What do you mean fifty-two!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Welcome to the good ol’ US of A, Georgie.” Sapnap settled himself next to Dream with a grin, his plate now empty and shining. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re taking a route that will take us through Nashville, Denver, and Seattle, and we’ll be making stops along the way, preferably at smaller towns, for motels, food, and to stretch our legs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’d be so much faster if we just stole a plane…” Sapnap whispered hopefully under his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We are not stealing any planes. Remember we’re trying to avoid as much attention as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm… Maybe we shouldn’t have jumped off a cruise ship in that case?” Skeppy casually pointed out, now munching on some cereal George hadn’t even seen him grab, signaling toward the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cartoon had been replaced by a breaking news report alerting the citizens of the county that four Extramundane stowaways from a cruise had been sighted at the bus station. Vague pictures of their appearances were on display, though not clear enough to really make-out, and it didn’t look like they’d figured out their names yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, shit,” muttered Sapnap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we supposed to do now?” George asked in a panic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream sighed, rubbing his temple and turning back to them. “We head off as soon as possible. There are some bags in the storage closet, gather as much dry goods and drinks as you can for the road. I’ll go find the money and the car keys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys hurriedly got to work, hoarding enough supplies to last them a couple of days on the road and taking them to the car in the garage. At one point, George was carrying a 32-pack of water bottles when he nearly tripped down the stairs, though Sapnap managed to hold him back. He helped him load it into the truck, and before George could head back into the kitchen, Sapnap took hold of his wrist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream’s been taking a while, maybe you should go check on him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sensing a deeper concern enlaced in his words, George narrowed his eyes. He knew Sapnap had caught onto their argument the night before, but seeing as Dream and George had dropped the topic, he didn’t realize Sapnap still appeared slightly worried about it. He sighed and silently agreed. Heading up the stairs and searching through the rooms, he reached the door at the end of the hallway which was slightly agape.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George gently pushed it open, spotting Dream sitting at the bed with his back to him, staring at something in his hands. Despite the bright, pink aesthetic of the room, flower portraits hung around and a white vanity mirror with femenine products, a heavy aura filled the whole of it, constricting his chest uncomfortably and making him gulp. The coldness of his shadow pursuer returned to him in the presence of negative emotions, and George clenched his fists at his sides, already exhausted from its unwavering presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream turned slightly when he heard him come in, but he didn’t say anything. George made his way over until he was standing in front of him. He was glancing down at a portrait of his sister and tracing a finger over her shining smile. His bangs shrouded his gaze, and George wasn’t even sure he wanted to see it, the unsettling, abrupt emotions seeping out of him already being enough to suffocate him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He joined him on the bed, playing with his fingers for a moment, the only sound that of his heartbeat and Dream’s gentle breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My sister wanted to be an Extramundane a long time ago.” Dream let out a barely audible snicker. “She was so disappointed when she turned nine and her powers still hadn’t manifested, but she never gave up hope.” His gaze rose, eyes focused on the pretty ballerina music box on the window’s frame. “Not until my parents finally exploded on her and asked her why she’d ever want to be like </span>
  <em>
    <span>those freaks</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I’d never seen her look so angry.” A tree branch outside rattled in the wind, tapping on the window slowly. George pursed his lips as he focused on it, trying to close off his heart to Dream’s overpowering emotions. “She said she wanted to be a hero like me. It’s when I really decided nothing was going to stop me from doing everything I could to help people like us—kids like us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t quite know what to say. Although Dream had expressed his need to save their people countless times, he’d rarely shared a reason why. George had always assumed it was an innate trait of his—this need to protect. He had assumed it was why he always defended him. He had never once thought it’d also been his sister’s influence that had motivated him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Things are really bad right now. Everywhere. The South. The North. All over the country. I know you haven’t been out of the island in a long time and I don’t know how it looks in Britain but…” Dream exhaled heavily, and George felt his eyes on him. “It’s only gotten worse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The silence felt like a frozen lake on the verge of shattering. George knew exactly what he’d say next, and yet he still didn’t feel ready when he did. He wanted so desperately to be back at the island sitting against their tree, laughing and joking about old times and watching as the sun fell beneath the horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t want to get involved, but I can’t promise you I won’t intervene. Not when I’ve made a promise to myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To help people?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“To help </span>
  <em>
    <span>our people</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips, not wanting to meet his eyes even though his gaze was drilling a hole straight through him. His fingers reached for his pendant, feathery touch caressing it between his index and thumb absent-mindedly. “You realize that we’ll be risking not only the mission but also our lives? Especially now that we’re on the news… if we get caught-” His breath hitched, darkness wrapping around his shoulders like two freezing hands reaching around his neck from behind and choking him. He swallowed again, more agitatedly. “There’s no guarantee the school or our parents will be able to get us out of trouble. Especially since I’m-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t able to finish his sentence, running out of breath too quickly. Dream understood, however. They all did. With the rising legislation against EMs, especially in southern states, being detained, thrown in jail or worse, a facility infamous for its horrendous treatment of their kind, was not unheard of for even the slightest misdemeanor—robbery, assault, disrespecting authority or resisting arrest. There was no doubt in George’s mind that breaking into the facility to save Bad would put them at risk of that, especially because George was now the only legal adult of the group.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A single mistake, and his—</span>
  <em>
    <span>their</span>
  </em>
  <span>—life would be over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a moment for Dream to respond, but when he did, his answer was a punch to the gut, and it left a nauseating feeling in his stomach, his lungs constricting and his fist gripping his pendant so hard the sharp edges almost broke through his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know, but we knew that when we set off on this mission. We knew that when we decided we needed to save Bad. Why does it have to be any different when it involves helping others lives’ too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was right. He was right, and George hated it. He hated it because it exposed everything he didn’t want to admit about himself. He hated it because it reminded him that he was a coward—that the only reason he’d taken the mission was because it was his friend on the line, but if it had been any other person, he wouldn’t have risked the only semblance of a normal life that he had, of a life that didn’t involve being trapped in a white cell because he decided to be a hero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because George wasn’t a hero, and he was never going to be one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream rested his hand on his lap. George’s gaze rose to meet him. Their eyes locked. “I would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> consciously put you in danger if I didn’t trust what I was doing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George forced a smile, unable to keep his bottom lip from trembling and his eyes from glossing over. He let go of his pendant and pressed his palm above Dream’s. “I know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Returning his smile, Dream stood up, his shaky hand placing his sister’s portrait back on the bed stand and taking a moment to straighten his posture. His gaze was stern when he turned back to George—a determination so familiar yet spiked with a ferocity George had never seen in him before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatever happens, we’ll do everything in our power to save Bad. That’s a promise.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><b>Important Announcements:</b> Unfortunately, college is kicking my ass so I'm going to have to cut down on the updates, not to mention I only have three chapters written ahead from this point, and I want to deliver quality and minimal plot holes, so <b>I'm going to take a one to two-month break from updating</b>, both to get my stuff together and to write something meaningful y'all will enjoy.</p><p>I'm going to be fully transparent with y'all. This story isn't where I want it to be both in writing and engagement at the moment. I have a solid foundation and a lot of ideas, and I know where it's going, but I guess I've finally gotten past the "honeymoon" stage if you'd call it, and it's been getting progressively harder to motivate myself as I write. <b>Thank you everyone who has supported it, shared it, commented, kudo'ed and read!</b> Y'all are literally my life support in this! You make all the work and time I put into it so worth it!</p><p>I'll see y'all in a few months. I'll still be active on twitter and tumblr so my DMs and asks are always open for anything you need/want to talk about. Love y'all! :)</p><p>Que tengan un hermoso día,<br/>Light</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Georgie's First Visit to Georgia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Starting off with a short update but I hope it's enjoyable! Grav and Grass, I literally can’t thank y’all enough for all the help you provide. Y’all are the best! &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The drive to Georgia was as irritating as George had predicted, and miraculously, he somehow managed to get some of his book reading done despite Sapnap’s constant and exaggerated </span>
  <em>
    <span>“are-we-there-yet’s,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Skeppy’s insistence on changing the radio station every five minutes, and Dream’s occasional slam to the steering wheel every time a car blocked his lane. Unsurprisingly, they quickly discovered that luck wasn’t on their side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The truck broke down in the middle of nowhere at the halfway point between two small towns in Georgia, and they had no choice but to push the old vehicle a few miles down the road (with the aid of Skeppy’s aerokinesis and George’s telekinesis) until mid-afternoon when they finally reached some semblance of civilization or at least something that bore on the definition of civilization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know, when you told us you had a ride, I was kinda expecting something that would </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually</span>
  </em>
  <span> work,” Sapnap grumbled when they finally managed to park the truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a dead-end town with a forgettable name in the countryside. Even in the light of the afternoon sun, most of the downtown buildings were run-down and slowly being engulfed by hoards of shrubs, invasive vines, and uncut grass. The roads were desolate, and the wind sang its lonesome melody to the infesting plant life. George would’ve thought it was a ghost town had it not been for the sole, dilapidated mechanic shop at an intersection, a buzzing ‘open’ sign hanging at its front.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, beggars can't be choosers,” Dream shrugged as they headed in, the bell at the door alerting any shopkeeper of their presence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hellooo?” Skeppy called out. “Hellooo? Anybody home?” He made his way through the dusty, crammed room that looked like a mix between a mechanic and an old item’s shop.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A forlorn gust of wind grazed his neck, and George found himself looking over his shoulder at the closed door, goosebumps running down the sides of his arms. He hugged himself and pursed his lips when he heard the haunting murmurs of his nightmares inside his head like the wind’s voice itself was a herald to an inevitable omen.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s all in your head,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he reassured himself while grasping his pendant and blinked his eyes shut for a breather. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Nothing’s going to go wrong as long as you control yourself.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The sound of shuffling near the desk caught their attention. An old man swiped open the curtain covering the archway behind the counter and scrutinized them, expression etched into an irritable frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He released a mix between a cough and a clear of his throat as he stepped forward. Leaning an elbow on the cashier and scrunching his nose in disgust, his eyes traced over them judgingly. “What do you kids want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our truck broke down, and we need someone to take a look at it.” Dream stepped forward, unfazed by the man’s grumpy demeanor and brash tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man glanced over Dream’s shoulder, eying the truck outside skeptically before he met his eyes again. “It’ll cost you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have money.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man sighed loudly and let out an unpleasant, ashy snort like he’d had one too many cigarettes during his daily routine. He pushed past them carelessly and Dream followed with his hands in his pockets. The boys trailed behind him like three little ducklings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After opening up the hood and giving it a quick glance, the man grumbled under his breath. He lowered it and said, “Looks like the battery’s fried. Easy replacement.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Great,” Dream beamed until the man continued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ll have to wait a few hours. I ain’t getting a shipment ‘till evening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Aren’t you in a mechanic’s shop...? Shouldn’t you have like batteries available?” Sapnap questioned with hesitance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man narrowed his eyes. He crossed his arms and grimaced, an unpleasant scowl aimed toward Sapnap. “Do you want it fixed or not?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Ignore him.” Dream chuckled nervously. He put both hands on Sapnap’s shoulders and shoved him aside so as to not rile the man further.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They made their way down the sidewalk aimlessly, scanning the nearby small shops and restaurants. In the end, they decided to spend some time shopping for snacks and articles of clothing. Considering most of them seemed overpriced, they settled for some inexpensive t-shirts they could wear the next day until they found a major retailer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, they found themselves walking down a strip of shops silently. Dream strolled at a comfortable pace next to him until one of the doors opened abruptly and smacked George in the forehead, almost sending him tumbling backwards. Sapnap and Skeppy bursted into snickers behind him and Dream into tea-kettle mode. Meanwhile, George whined and rubbed the spot gently. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A short middle-aged woman exited the shop with a brown paper grocery bag, her big smile faltering when she noticed the boys, and more specifically George who was still holding onto the red spot on his forehead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my God! I am so sorry! I didn’t see you there!” she blabbered while hurriedly setting her bag down. Then she broke George’s personal bubble when she put his hands on both his cheeks and turned his face to examine the bruise. “Oh, honey, are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uhm, yes-” George managed, frozen to his spot with eyes as wide as saucers that only made his friends laugh harder.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She furrowed her eyebrows and took a step back, somewhat taken aback. “Well I’ll be! I don’t believe I’ve ever run into a British person in this small town. You’re not from around here are you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George felt seen under the woman’s intense gaze, and he shook his head, slightly turning toward his friends and avoiding eye contact as if she’d be able to see into his mind and figure out they were wanted fugitives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream managed to calm his wheezes. He cleared his throat and gained his composure, though not before flashing George an amused grin. George could barely contain the impulse to slap him, but it would’ve only dragged more attention to them. “No, we’re just passing through, ma’am. Our truck broke down, so we’re just taking a walk.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman perked up at that, raising her bag into her arms and beaming, glancing in between the boys. “How unfortunate.” She offered each of the boy’s her hand and shook them a little too enthusiastically, introducing herself as Martha. When she heard their odd nicknames, she raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she asked, “Where are your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s pulse quickened at that, and his eyes traced his friends in a panic, but they all seemed to be keeping it together better than he was. Describing it as on edge was an understatement. Even just starting a conversation with a shopkeeper or a person on the street felt dangerous—like he was a ticking time bomb. It didn’t help the images of the people at the cruise were etched into his brain. Although he’d struggled with a similar feeling all throughout his time at AGE, now that he was in the real world surrounded by normal people, George felt like he was tiptoeing through a field of baby chicks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re traveling by ourselves.” Dream’s voice snapped him out of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha seemed surprised at the answer, and she repositioned her bag in her arms, sending them a skeptical eyebrow raise. “Four unaccompanied young men traveling through a small town?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George interlocked his own two hands and looked away, counting in his head while waiting for the conversation to end so they could peacefully be on their merry way, maybe even stop by a park to help clear his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, yeah,” Dream chuckled uncomfortably, unsure of what else to say. George shifted on his heels. He held his hands behind his back and tried not to look nervous. For a second, Martha scrutinized them carefully, and George had the urge to run and hide before she called the cops on them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fortunately, her beam only grew brighter and she changed the topic, though the peculiar, inquisitive look she sent George made him somewhat uncomfortable. “Are you boys eating anywhere tonight?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Sapnap answered for them a little too quickly, though the flash of warning in Dream’s eyes when he turned to him made him shut up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’t you boys come eat dinner at my place? It’s only a few blocks from here, and it’s just my daughter and I today. We have enough food to feed a whole orphanage!” She cackled at her own joke, slapping Dream’s wrist lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips and shook his head when Dream looked at him for help. Dream turned back to Martha with a tense smile. “It’s really not a problem, we can just-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh for Lord’s sake! I insist!” She placed a palm over George’s shoulder that caused all his muscles to tense up. A bad feeling erupted in his stomach, letting him know it didn’t sound like a good idea to eat dinner at a complete stranger’s home when they weren’t even sure how she’d react if she found out they were EMs. He met Dream’s eyes, silently begging for him to refuse. “Take it as an apology for smackin’ you poor thing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, in the time it took Dream to hesitate, Sapnap answered for them, “That sounds like a great invitation, ma’am. I think we’ll accept.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To Dream’s unyielding glare, Sapnap responded with the typical I-know-what-I’m-doing grin he used, often before a certain disaster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wonderful! Follow me boys, I’ll show you where my house is.” The woman happily hooked her arm with George’s, the boy sending his friends behind them a frantic stare, two of which cackled silently and Dream who sighed, an indistinct smile on his face, and raised both shoulders like there was nothing he could do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What could go wrong?” Sapnap whispered behind him while Martha blabbered something about their formally lively, beautiful town.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha’s place was a small two-story house in a calm, bright neighborhood that appeared almost like a different place in comparison to the crumbling downtown. Bushes of vibrant flowers decorated the front porch and a rocking chair swayed calmly to the swift winds surrounding them. The freshly-cut grass made George’s nose itch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The front door opened to the living room full with relaxed decor, warm colors and comfortably furnished. A few family portraits hung by a large cross on the wall above the sofa and a few trophies decorated the half-empty bookshelf in the corner. Several vanilla-scented candles were lit up in different corners of the room. The kitchen was interconnected to the living room, and the scent of a tender home-cooked meal sizzling in the stove mixed with the vanilla to permeate the cozy ambient. George swore he’d seen the scene in a sitcom once. The eerie perfection of it all didn’t help his growing concern of something going horribly wrong at any second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Amara, come down, darlin’. We have some lovely visitors eating with us today!” Martha called up the stairs. She scanned the four awkward boys standing at the front door unsure of what to do and stifled a laugh, leading them to sit on the sofas. Dream and George found comfort next to each other on the sofa facing the television while Skeppy and Sapnap sat down on the one beside them. Martha clicked the television on which was set to a local news channel. “Would you boys like something to drink?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could take some water,” Sapnap said when none of them spoke up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course, honey. I’ll be right back. Feel free to change the channel.” She made her way to the kitchen, leaving them to huddle forwards and discuss the situation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap! What were you thinking?” George was the first to talk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That we might as well take all the free food we can get.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream glanced skeptically at the woman in the kitchen humming a comfortable tune. He sighed. “She seems harmless. We might as well take advantage now that we’re here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would any stranger be this kind, though?” George asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It just looks like she has a bad case of Southern hospitality to me.” Sapnap shrugged. He shuffled comfortably back in the cushions and pinned his hands behind his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Besides, what could a harmless middle-aged Southern woman do to us?” Dream played along, crossing his arms and grinning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You underestimate the power of a Karen, Dream.” Skeppy shook his head like he was reliving some sort of traumatic experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Y’all need to stop overreacting.” Sapnap snickered and rolled his eyes, playfully punching Skeppy in the ribs who responded by shoving him back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sat back on the couch, pressing his palms on his knees and attempting to feel more at ease in the strange house. Maybe his friends were right and he was overreacting. As long as they kept their cover and George kept his powers in check, there was absolutely nothing that could go wrong. They just had to get through dinner without giving themselves away, and they’d walk away harm-free. Easy as that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All George had to do was calm down and prevent his abilities from going out of whack. This was what he’d trained for all those years—handling his powers in stressful situations. He had this. Sure, he’d almost lost control back at the cruise, but this time it’d be different. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite it, his stomach still felt like it was doing somersaults. It seemed like the more he attempted to reassure himself, the more uncertain he grew—thinking that at any moment, he would mess up and the authorities would be at the front door ready to take him into a facility in no time.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Even the slightest stressor could set you off,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sarah’s words echoed in his mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His eyes caught the video playing on the TV screen, and his heart suddenly felt like it was about to pound out of his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream.” George didn’t take his eyes off the screen as he tapped him on the leg, his voice trembling as he spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A clip of their bold cruise exit was playing on a special report segment. The news lady commented over it, stating there was still an on-going search in Florida for the EM fugitives who’d snuck into the country. Another male voice joined her, discussing what the potential breach in national security could mean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Glancing at Dream with uncertainty, he watched as his expression shifted from amusement to confusion to alarm in the course of three seconds after he saw the TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sound of Martha’s rushed footsteps from the kitchen, Dream scrambled for the remote and barely managed to change the channel to some random soap opera. He disguised his panic with a smile when Martha wandered over to them with a water pitcher and some glass cups.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George tensed when Martha took the chair closest to him. He offered her a nervous smile as he ruffled the tips of his hair brushing his forehead, swiping away the slightest bit of perspiration on his skin. It felt like an electric current was traveling over the surface.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Breathe,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he tried to calm himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She served the four glasses of water on the coffee table facing them and sat back, comfortably setting her palms on her lap and smiling fondly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I brought you all some drinks in case you changed your mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream thanked her as he took one in his hand. His voice sounded mostly calm and settled, though George didn’t miss the barely audible quake at the end of his sentence. By the way his aura was beginning to blend with the ambient in the room as he pushed his emotions back, George could tell Dream felt more nervous than he was letting on. Skeppy and Sapnap hadn’t yet caught onto the tension seeing as they’d been stuck in conversation the whole time. Probably for the best anyway. George wasn’t sure if he could take three nervous auras bombarding him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached for a glass, nearly downing it whole in record-time. The room grew unpleasantly warm, humidity sticking to the inside of his shirt and smothering him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what brings you boys through town?” Martha’s curious gaze stole glances at George who gulped down the last sip of his water yet still found himself feeling thirsty.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re on a road trip,” Dream answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you?” Martha raised both eyebrows. She tilted her head and offered a doubtful stare. “What would a couple of handsome, young gentlemen be doing on a road trip without your parents?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re just showing George our beautiful country,” Sapnap responded when he saw Dream hesitate. George pursed his lips, pretending he was too busy admiring her home decor when her eyes landed on him once more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see. Where are you from, George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He glanced at her, trying to keep the shakiness from his tone when he said, “London.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, my sister traveled to London during the holidays.” She got comfortable in her seat, sighing lightly and shaking her head. “She said it’s much more restrictive there nowadays, isn't it? I heard all the kids have to go through these exams to make sure they'ven't developed any abilities.” She </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk</span>
  </em>
  <span>ed then inspected her nails and wrinkled her nose judgingly. “I don’t understand why our country can’t match up to British standards for safety in our schools. If it were me, I’d remove my baby from the range of any of those freaks.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shuffled uncomfortably. His fingers gripped the fabric of his sweats. Dream cleared his throat. “Our country is handling things slowly compared to others…” His tone was strained. Practiced and plastic—the cutthroat edge in it was obvious to anybody who knew him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Exactly!” Martha shook her head disapprovingly before directing another question at George whose palms were growing more clammy by the second. He felt like his airway was closing in on him. “Do you attend school there?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, no, I go to school here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, really? Where?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He choked up a little, gripping his glass to take another sip but finding it empty. Thankfully, Dream saved his arse. “We go to school in Florida. It’s a small preparatory boarding school. Not very well-known.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed impressed. “Well-educated, I see. You boys must be very popular with the ladies, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy choked on his water, setting his cup on the wooden table with too loud of a thunk. Sapnap coughed, avoiding eye-contact as he feigned ignorance. George didn’t think he’d ever had such an uncomfortable conversation with an adult before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t have to come up with an answer to that seeing as they were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs. Martha’s beam widened when she noticed the newcomer. “Oh, wonderful timing! Come down, darlin’.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pretty short brunette joined them shyly in the living room. Her arms were crossed and her face was somewhat flushed, probably embarrassed by her mother’s overenthusiasm for her guests. George couldn’t blame her. “This is my daughter, Amara, say hi, honey.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amara gave a timid wave before taking a seat by her mother. “My Amara is at the top of her class at her school. Though I’d wish she had a better place to really shine. She’s quite talented, aren’t you Amara?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The girl chose not to answer. Her face instead grew a shade of pink and she muttered an embarrassed, “Mom.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No need to be shy, sweetheart. These are some fine gentlemen from a prestigious academy in Florida. Clearly well-educated, and George also happens to be British.” She sent her daughter a not-so-subtle wink. George wanted to die.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my god,” Amara whispered under her breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s face grew a deeper shade of red as well, and he clasped his fingers together, firmly pressing his heels on the wooden floorboards and avoiding peeking at Sapnap and Skeppy who were now doing everything to contain their snickers. Sapnap’s fist was in front of his mouth, breathing in spurts. Skeppy pretended to choke on his saliva. He didn’t even want to imagine the field day his friends were having with the traumatic experience. His powers felt like they were at the edge of bursting from all the uncomfortable emotions swamping him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh my, how did I forget? The news is on right now. They happen to have a handsome gentleman who announces the weather.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha reached for the remote on the coffee table. In an impulsive spurt, George saw himself jolting forward, throwing it off the table, and shouting, “No!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everyone went silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s heart nearly reached his throat, and his pulse was deafening in his ears. The glasses on the coffee table rattled, though he figured he could blame it on accidentally kicking it when he surged toward the remote. Martha stared at George stunned, and her daughter had a similar expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream broke the silence with an awkward snicker. “George’s just a little excited to talk is all.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he doesn’t talk to many people but us,” Sapnap added quickly, both saving and embarrassing him further. Although George really wanted to punch him, he supposed it was better than Martha getting suspicious and changing the channel to see the eerily similar appearances of the fugitives to the four boys in her living room on live TV.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Oh, well, in that case.” Martha sounded more eager as she sat back. “Why don’t you tell me a little more about yourself? Do you parents live in England? Why did they decide to send you here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t think the questions could get any worse, but Martha continued to prove him wrong. He shifted sideways, clearing his throat and trying to keep his voice straight. He was on the verge of exploding, and the china plates on display in her bookshelf stirred ever so slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um…” his voice was desperate and his thoughts were unable to properly connect in his head to offer any sort of comprehensible answer.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream shifted closer, their arms brushing, and George attempted to breathe in the soothing waves his aura was suddenly giving off, but he was unable to clear his mind with the way Martha was staring him down. “George doesn’t really like speaking about his parents.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m sorry.” Martha forced a smile before jumping onto another topic. “My Amara has always wanted to visit Europe, haven’t you, honey?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George glanced at the clock desperately only to find they’d only been sitting there for barely twenty minutes. At the sound of water spilling on the stove, Martha scrambled to her feet, hurrying to the kitchen to turn it off and leaving the boys awkwardly sitting by Amara.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry about my mom. We don’t get too many visitors, and she’s a little desperate for conversation,” Amara offered a rushed apology, covering her tomato-colored face with her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap cleared his throat, smirk directed at George with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Don’t worry about it. George doesn’t get this much attention from the ladies this often.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was ready to kill him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap,” he sputtered, wide eyes alternating between Amara’s puzzled expression and Sapnap’s very amused one.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap’s just an idiot. Truth is George is unavailable.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The confession gained three absolutely flabbergasted looks from his friends and Amara’s even more confused expression. Dream’s face was unreadable as he stared at Amara. His next sentence nearly gave George a heart attack, and he could hardly keep a handle on his emotions enough to prevent the chinaware from shattering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, we should’ve told your mother earlier but George and I are sort of an item. So, uh, we’d appreciate it if she toned it down a little.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sat up straight with a deer in the headlights expression, tense silence deafening to his ears. He opened his mouth but nothing came out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Say wha-” Sapnap’s mouth was clamped shut by Skeppy’s hand who released an awkward snicker when Amara looked at them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Amara turned back to Dream questioningly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream laughed, calm and collected, not a hint of unease when he replied, “Yeah. We’re dating. George’s just a little shy about it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Amara sat up a little straighter at the confession, completely taken aback by it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha returned with an apron on and a rag on her hands, displaying a warm smile. She clapped her hands, sound muffled by the fabric. “Dinner’s ready! Why don’t we all come take a seat?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took everyone a moment to properly process the situation before they got on their feet. They settled at the table. George sat next to Skeppy and directly in front of Dream while Sapnap took the chair beside him. Martha served them all a plate of baked chicken, potatoes, and salad. She took a seat and said a prayer before digging in. The boys followed suit, all of them exchanging odd glances every so often. George continuously stole glimpses at Dream to which he didn’t respond to, instead maintaining a smile as he thanked Martha for the meal.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, George. Are you planning to live in America once you graduate?” Martha continued her ceaseless questioning. A potato got stuck at the back of his throat, and he took a sip of his water to drain it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh. Well you should consider it. It’s a beautiful country with a booming economy and plenty of beautiful young women for your liking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom,” Amara squeaked all the sudden, high-pitched and abrupt. Her palms slammed the table, and she sent her mother a nervous smile. “Please stop. You’re making everyone at this table uncomfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, honey, I’m just making conversation. I’m sure George doesn’t-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mom.” Her voice was a little louder, fingers bunching up the veil on the table tightly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“They’re dating.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Martha’s lips opened in the shape of an ‘o,’ her eyebrows creased and her head slightly tilted as she struggled to understand. “Who?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream and George. They’re dating,” Amara managed. George’s eyes took a heavy interest upon the fake fruit decoration in the middle of the table. “Please stop asking weird questions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took a second for Martha to gain her composure and to finally utter a small and guilty, “Oh.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t think he could ever feel more relief at such an unexpected confession, and he found the tension in his neck muscles unraveling all the bit. It was awkward for some time, but it was admittedly better than having to answer a dozen intruding questions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well you two make an adorable couple,” Martha finally said, voice strained. She stabbed her potato with her fork and took a half-aggressive bite. George beat his fingers on the wooden table to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Sapnap coughed uncomfortably, meeting his gaze. He was pursing his lips like he was trying not to smile and raising both eyebrows at him. George almost catapulted his potato to swipe that look off his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the awkwardness of the situation, Amara excused herself to the bathroom and rushed away, footsteps disappearing down the hallway by the side of the dining room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you two meet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream choked on his water a bit. He dabbed his napkin on his lips and glanced at George. He turned back to Martha who was still donning an awkward smile. “We’ve been best friends since we were young.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” She tilted her head. “And you just suddenly decided you were good for each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream locked eyes with George, a faded pink drowning his freckles. George was almost tempted to get inside his head, but he was too afraid of what he’d find or more precisely, how he’d react to it, so instead he opted for breaking eye contact and intensely staring at the dry chicken breast on his plate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Something like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George only gained a proper breath of air when Martha finally decided to stop pestering them with questions and instead went off on a tangent rambling about the way she’d met her ex-husband. Her words faded into the background as he considered why exactly Dream had decided to bring up that excuse out of all the ones he could have come up with. He knew Dream had definitely caught onto the way Martha’s incessant questioning was affecting him, but he never would’ve thought Dream would bring up </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of excuse to save him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t exactly mind, but he was more so puzzled by it. However, he was certainly grateful. They didn’t exactly want to find out what Martha would do if she figured out she had unintentionally invited four EMs into her home after she’d made her thoughts about them clear. Even worse, George didn’t even want to entertain the thought of how she’d react if she found out there was a Psychic among them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he looked up, he noticed Dream was focused on him, his eyebrows furrowed and faint redness on his cheeks still visible. He felt him nudging at his mind, and he took a deep breath, lowering their mind block to let him in.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you okay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I’m fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I can make an excuse for you if you need to leave.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let’s just finish dinner and we can go.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream offered a silent nod and turned back to Martha, wearing a fake smile and nodding along to her story.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Amara came back a few minutes later, and after an excruciating hour of hearing Martha practically spit out her life story, they were finally done. Before she could rope them into another traumatic conversation, Dream let Martha know they should head back to the mechanic’s shop to check on their truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, sweetheart, it was great meeting you. I hope you enjoyed the dinner.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We did. Again, I really appreciate you inviting us over. It was very kind of you.” Dream shook Martha’s hand one last time before they made their way out of the house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Drive safe boys, and take care of your boyfriend, Dream, you’re a lucky one!” Martha waved goodbye and embarrassed them one last time before shutting the door. George breathed in the fresh air outside like heaven in his lungs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they reached the sidewalk, Skeppy and Sapnap started cackling, struggling to breathe and having to stop to calm themselves down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Boyfriend, huh, Dream?” Sapnap asked between laughter. “Ain’t that sweet?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was the most intense second-hand embarrassment I’ve ever experienced in my life!” Skeppy managed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George rolled his eyes. It annoyed him that he’d been the main circus attraction throughout their whole visit, but he was more so relieved that it had finally ended and without any life-long repercussions (except maybe a mortifying memory that’d keep him up during the night for the years to come). He stood by Dream, awkwardly shuffling his weight from foot to foot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream crossed his arms and sent both laughing boys an unimpressed stare. “Let’s just hurry up before the old man decides he’ll get to keep our truck,” he muttered and started walking.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys made their way back to the mechanic’s shop, mostly with Sapnap and Skeppy talking non-stop about their terribly embarrassing dinner. Dream and George were quiet with Dream stealing glances at him every so often. George could tell he wanted to ask if he was doing okay, but he was probably saving the conversation for when it was just the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrived, Dream paid the grumpy old man who examined the bills carefully and then shooed them out of his shop. They were on the road soon after that with Skeppy taking the next drive and Sapnap on shotgun. They only stopped for gas once during which George didn’t take his eyes off his book when Dream and him were left in the car alone because Skeppy went to pay and Sapnap was about to piss himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a tense, heavy silence weighing between them—more so awkward than upset. George was glad the sun was finally out and the warmth on his cheeks, neck, and shoulder blades wasn’t as visible in the dim interior of the truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finally, around midnight, they stopped at a tiny, run-down motel by the highway. The beat-down building was U-shaped with only a few cars scattered in the parking lot. A 24-hour gas station was located beside it as well as a sketchy dinner across the street. It was the kind of cheap place that attracted important businessmen with their affairs and drug addicts searching for temporary refuge. There were no other open businesses and much less any other sign of life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Dream’s fake ID (that he claimed to have gotten from his cousin who had ‘connections’) went through without a hitch. The lady at the desk gave them two keys for two doubles beside each other, and when they reached the doors, Sapnap snickered. “Welp, I guess I’ll share rooms with Skeppy so we can give the </span>
  <em>
    <span>boyfriends</span>
  </em>
  <span> their privacy. Try not to get too noisy, boys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap ran into his room and slammed the door before Dream had a chance to attack. Skeppy just laughed and shrugged at them, using his key to follow him into the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In his shared room with Dream, there were two double beds with white sheets and only the dull, murky yellow lightning of an ugly brown lamp at the corner. A TV stand sat in front of the beds, and a sofa was stuffed comfortably at the corner. The bathroom door was at the other end, and the whole of the room smelled faintly of cigarettes and nasty expired air ‘fresheners.’ George wondered if they even had cleaning staff when he found a pair of disgusting boxers below his bed. He levitated them to the trash can by the front door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Dream broke the strained silence between them after George got out of the shower, dressed in his new t-shirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“About what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The dinner and, um, saying we were dating.” He scratched the back of his head, glancing at the ground. His face revealed a somewhat out-of-character adorably shy smile. It suited him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry about it. I know why you did it.” George snickered and dried his hair with a towel. He turned away and then buried himself in the stuffy covers. Dream sat at the edge of his bed, facing him. “I appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s faint smile expanded, and he glanced down at his clasped hands, nervously clicking his tongue. He seemed to hesitate with his next words, but he said them anyway. “For what it’s worth, I don’t think it’s completely out of the realm of possibility.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s heart got caught in his throat, eyes widening a little, and he choked on his words when he stuttered out a surprised, “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream stifled a laugh when their eyes locked. George couldn’t tell if it was humorous, awkward, nervous, or all of the above. “As in, we’re best friends and we already do everything together. I think if we </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> to pretend to be a couple, it wouldn’t be</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” George swallowed, heat on his face rising. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a pregnant pause, Dream finally decided to get comfortable in his bed and turned off the lamp on the stand in between them. “Night,” he muttered, turning the other way so George couldn’t see him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although sleep came surprisingly easy after that, his nightmares proved to be ruthless, and George found himself wishing he hadn’t fallen asleep despite how exhausted his body felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was in the same pit of black as before, sitting down with his ankles and wrists tied down by black, monstrous tendrils, his mouth gagged with an invisible mound. The merciless shadow snaked over his shoulders again, leaving traces of iciness on his neck and faint murmurs chilling the inside of his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except this time, he understood them.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George…”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the shadowy, dull voice called out. It sounded so familiar, cold and cruel, yet George couldn’t pinpoint who it belonged to. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Wake up, George.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>George hummed, gagging in attempts to throw up the force nagging his throat, desperate tears pooling at the corners of his eyes as he struggled against the stirring ropes that compressed around his muscles like snakes. But they only pulled tighter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t have to be afraid anymore, George,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice said, its tone growing deeper and raspier, reverberating across his skin like thousands of scraping nails against metal. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll always be here to protect you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“George…” He squeezed his eyes shut, the shadow growing more insistent. Its chilling ghost arms squeezed around his torso and chest and pushed against him like it was phasing through. Desperate for his attention like it was seeking entry. Or like it was trying to yank itself out of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>  ̵̢̖̠̹̱̭̏̐̓"̴̡͔͈̃̑͒̿L̴̢̹̘̈͌̈́̃ę̴̞͔̩͔̒̈́͊̚͜ţ̷͈̫̐͌̔͠ ̴̣̈́̕m̷̛̤̙̄̄̒e̸̹̓̆̈́̍ ̶̰̖͓͔̣̿͆̇͌̓ő̵̘̦̫̚ṵ̸̡̠̼̦̹̅̔͛̌̿̕t̸̤̖̬̤̬͂̎̾͝"̵̺̻͛̎̉͌͘ </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shook his head, hopelessly attempting to block it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wake up,” the voice repeated, this time inside his head—loud and hollow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He jolted awake, his breathing jagged and the lasting trace of two hands smothering his neck dissipating into the frigid air. The glow of the full moon spilled through the only window in the room onto George’s ghostly pale face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat up, clutching his sheets and searching the empty room frantically. His pillow was drenched in perspiration, and sweat dripped from his hair onto his forehead, the chilling breeze uncomfortably numbing on his skin. The clock beside the TV read 2:19 AM.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George?” Dream’s warm voice spilled like honey beside him, and he glanced at him as he attempted to calm his breathing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face was barely discernible with the flash of white light outlining his dark silhouette from behind. “What happened? Are you okay?” He emanated an aura of concern that felt like a heater in the lonesome winter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” George gulped. A tear rolled down his cheek. “It was just a nightmare.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream sat up and reached his bare arm over to turn on the lamp in between their beds. The yellow light illuminated his visage and his pretty gold eyes which were glazed over with confusion and still half-asleep. Dream inclined his body toward him and only then did George notice he’d shredded his shirt off somewhen during the night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be okay,” George finally managed before he took his eyes off Dream and lied back down on his bed. He stared at the blank ceiling, his throat aching and scraped. His lips quivered, a sudden chill wrapping around his shoulders, the whispers still resonating in his ears despite the room being dead silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s all in your head,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he told himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beside him, he heard Dream shuffle out of his bed. He came into vision next to him, staring down at him. He offered a faint smile that made George’s heart skip a beat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scoot over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” George stifled in confusion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Scoot over. I’ll sleep with you tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George gaped at him for a second before he shifted to the other side. Next to him, the bed dipped and he felt a sudden warm flush against his side. Dream dug himself into the covers and turned to face him. Wistful memories of their old sleepovers came to mind, those beautiful recollections of falling asleep on his bed after Dream snuck in through his window, and he would awaken in the middle of the night to see Dream’s peaceful aspect shining in the moonlight pouring through his half-open curtains. Those were the memories that comforted him the most—encompassed him with a kind of fullness he so desperately craved and treasured from his best friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He fluttered his eyes shut, but he couldn’t keep the tremor out of his hands, and he pursed his lips tightly, eyelids burning when the menacing presence of his nightmares robbed him of all his pleasant thoughts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream scooted closer, breathy whisper teasing his mouth and cheeks. “Turn around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George didn’t have the energy to question it, so he did as told. The feeling of Dream’s arm wrapping around his torso under the covers tingled on his skin, the fervent heat of his bare body blanketing him like a shield amid the arctic snow. He pulled him closer, so close he could feel Dream’s damp breath against the back of his neck and the softness of his lips grazing his skin every time he breathed out. His odor was addictive, a trace of earthy pine and mint blending like fragrance in his nostrils. It calmed him like no other smell could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A longing fondness emanated from him, pooling around them in a bubble of protection like an unbreakable force field where nothing could ever hurt him. The smile on George’s face was inevitable. His breathing slowed to the rhythm of Dream’s own exhalations, more tranquil and soothing than usual. His abnormally quick heartbeat pounded on George’s back pleasantly, reverberating across his body like a gentle massage. He melted into him, relaxing the weight of his body into Dream’s hold like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle finding their one and only.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George exhaled softly, his eyelids heavy and his limbs as light as a feather, a floating feeling falling over him and drowning him into a pleasant white slumber, the shadow that’d been stalking him for the past days long forgotten. Only Dream’s pleasant aura beamed in his dreams that night—a comforting hearth full of delightful memories and an overwhelming blanket of safety.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It felt like home.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>A tentative update schedule for every chapter of the story left (plus a little surprise spin-off) and the chapter titles are posted on both my tumblr and twitter (pinned posts) if you want to check that out. I post a lot about Aether’s Legacy on both, so you can follow me if you’re into that! Also I recently made a post about looking to commission a few artists for art about this story (not everyone but a few), so DM me if you're interested in that! Thal started off this way and I absolutely love their art, so I'm looking for a few more artist hands :D</p><p>We’re back to our weekly update schedule from now on, this time it’s going to be <b>an update every Friday</b>. I only have a few chapters left to write in all and oh my god has it been driving me crazy excited, not sure how I’ve been able to contain myself from just posting everything I have but wow! I mentioned this on my twitter but there’s a <b>huge easter egg in one of the posted chapters</b> that (as far as I know) only Grav has caught onto about a major plot point that’s coming. If you find it, <b>don’t say what it is,</b> just write in the comments that you think you found it so I know aha ;)</p><p>Anyhow, I love y’all! So excited to be back! Let me know what you think, your comments literally bring me life! I’ll see y’all next week &lt;3</p><p>Con amor,<br/>Light</p><p>P.S: Never explicitly stated this but please don’t be discouraged from offering constructive criticism down in the comments. I take all the help I can get so if you don’t like something or have a suggestion on something, just let me know! I promise you won’t hurt my feelings, I’m a physically smol, mentally big girl. You can also send me an ask on tumblr if you want to stay anonymous. And again, I reply to all my comments :)</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Disaster in Tennessee</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The fact this story is the brightest part of my life right now in between trying to survive my math major, keeping up with my STEM teaching courses, working on my Creative Writing minor, handling volunteering responsibilities, and having a crisis because I think I've been dealing with undiagnosed ADHD without realizing .-.</p><p>Anyway, if you're not following Grav on social media (<a href="https://twitter.com/princehestia?lang=en"> twitter </a> and <a href="https://princedemeter.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>), what are you even doing? They're like the luckiest one here getting to read everything three chapters in advance, love you Grav, thanks for being the best beta around &lt;3</p><p>This chapter is where the real juice starts so... :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking to the scent of pine and two strong arms embracing him like a giant teddy bear would’ve been a perfect morning for George had it not been for the deafening snores of the giant spooning him. Despite it, he couldn’t help but smile at the feel of the heat of Dream encasing him like an impenetrable mantle.</p><p>The beams of warmth leaking through the window painted his face in yellow and blinded him momentarily before he raised a hand to shield his vision. The clock by the TV read 8:02 AM. Considering they’d arranged to meet up at 8:15 AM to head to a nearby shopping center on the Tennessee border to buy some supplies, George decided it was about time to finally get out of bed.</p><p>He attempted to unlatch Dream’s arms, but his friend’s grip proved to be persistently strong even asleep, and Dream further nuzzled his nose into the crook of his neck, letting out a loud sigh that tickled his skin.</p><p>“Dream,” he groaned, twisting slightly and poking his cheek. “We have to get up.”</p><p>“Five more minutes, mom…” Dream grumbled, his grasp on George tightening.</p><p>The warmth of his bare skin against him made his face turn a shade of red. Although it was unlikely their friends would burst in on them in such an intimate position seeing as the door was locked, the wide open curtains didn’t evade the possibility they’d catch a glimpse.</p><p>Thus, George exhaled and decided he<em> really </em> had to get up, otherwise Sapnap and Skeppy’s teasing would become endless.</p><p>“Dream, we really need to take off. Sapnap and Skeppy are going to be waiting for us.”</p><p>“Mhm,” he murmured, though without making an effort to move.</p><p>“Dream!”</p><p>“Okay, okay!” Dream said, tone raspy and drowsed with sleep. George couldn’t help but blush a little more at how attractive it sounded. However, as soon as the thought came to mind, he pushed the idea into the reserved caverns of his mind, refusing to entertain any more thoughts about his friend’s unquestionable allure. He didn’t need this right now.</p><p>Dream unwrapped his arms and sat up, scrubbing the sleep from his eyes while George slipped out of the covers. As if on cue, slamming at the door startled the both of them, and George sprung from the bed, headed for the door just as Sapnap peeked his head through the window, smooching the glass and leaving a disgusting stain of slobber on it. George flipped him off and then opened the door.</p><p>“Rise and shine!” Skeppy announced and stepped inside with a much-too cheerful smile. “Surprised Dream isn’t the one waking us up.”</p><p>Sapnap snorted. “The lovebirds probably had a little too much fun last night so they’re probably <em> really </em> sore and tired.” He wiggled his eyebrows.</p><p>George struggled to keep the redness out of his face and reached to smack him but Sapnap pulled out a fire fist and told him to stay back before he could. </p><p>Thankfully, Dream came up behind him, surprisingly already dressed, and saved his ass from any further embarrassment by deflecting the topic. “Bold of you to tease the one who’s paying for all your meals on this trip.”</p><p>Sapnap huffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Let’s just hurry up, I’m starving!” he said as they gathered their stuff and went to check out of their rooms.</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>They didn’t talk about it.</p><p>Not while sharing the back seat while Sapnap took the wheel and Skeppy took shotgun. Not while George had been staring at the same paragraph of his book for the past five minutes because Dream’s heavy presence beside him was too distracting. Not when they stopped for gas and were left alone in the truck yet again. And certainly not when they stopped at a small diner a few hours from the Tennessee border for breakfast.</p><p>It was an old-fashioned 1970s diner that, paired with an antique jukebox from the early 2000s, was dazzled with the plentiful portraits of legendary bands and artists. It was surprisingly busy, lively waitresses and waiters serving families and couples scattered in the polished wooden tables and striped booths with large windows that faced the parking lot. The hostess greeted them with too bright of a beam, cheerfully asking them how many people they’d be serving today. She led them to a booth off the back by the jukebox that was playing an upbeat classic. </p><p>George and Dream opted toward sharing their side and settled for their usual distance, their arms finding comfort brushing against each other whenever one of them shifted even the slightest bit. Sapnap quirked an eyebrow at the action, and George huffed when he saw the suggestive look on his face.</p><p>A waitress took their orders soon after. Sapnap took full advantage of Dream’s wallet and bought himself a hefty order of pancakes paired with a plate of eggs, sausage and toast. Skeppy seemed a bit more distracted than usual, impatiently tapping his fingers on the table and glancing out the window. Dream had to call his name twice before he realized the waitress was waiting on him. He ordered an unusual light breakfast for himself, and George made a mental note to ask him if he was okay later, not feeling up to reading him and potentially tiring himself with external emotions so early in the day.</p><p>Dream ordered a simple breakfast burrito, and George decided to take the same (save for pairing it with apple juice) as he didn’t feel like swiping through the menu tablets. The waitress excused herself, and the boys sat in a momentary silence, listening to the jukebox music, racking dishes at the counter and energetic voices from the tables around them.</p><p>A stressed-out couple sitting by the front door with young triplets blabbering and toying with their food. An old woman using her baby voice on a toddler as she cut his pancakes into little pieces. A tattooed, muscular woman giggling as she wrapped her arm around another woman's shoulder and nuzzled her cheek. A couple with greying hair conversing and sharing a meal in one of the middle tables. A lonesome teenage girl in one of the booths near them, nervously scanning the crowd with her fists tightly wound into a rock.</p><p>George turned away before her anxiety could raid his emotions. Despite that, even from a distance, an inevitable swirling in his gut took away his appetite. He gulped, glancing down at his hands and playing with his fingers while filling his mind with other things.</p><p>Dream leaned slightly closer, and when their hands grazed, he felt the tenderness of his aura caress him like a milder version of his morning bear hug. He closed his eyes and pretended they were still in bed, if only for a passing second.</p><p>When he opened them and looked over at him, Dream offered a small smile. Across the table, Sapnap narrowed his eyes, alternating glances between them with suspicion. Skeppy was too distracted to notice anything.</p><p>Sapnap opened his mouth to say something that would undoubtedly have George flicking some of his drink at him but before he could, Dream withdrew his hand, though the aura didn’t lessen when he did, and he slid his tablet from his backpack, a map of their location on display. “We’re going to stop by the shopping mall at the border then head to another hotel for the night and we’ll stay in Nashville for the day to unwind a little.”</p><p>“Unwind?” Skeppy snapped, taking a sudden, not-so-pleased interest in the conversation. George cringed at the hostility masking his tone, suddenly aware of the unease confining him in his little corner of the booth. “You want us to <em> unwind </em>? While Bad is out there in danger?”</p><p>Taken aback by his remark, Dream’s gaze turned stern. “I didn’t mean it that way. We’ve been on the run for a few days now. We’re going to need a break so we don’t lose our minds.”</p><p>Skeppy glanced at George before his eyes landed back on Dream, his jaw tightening. Although concerning, the sudden rush of emotions was too much, and George had to turn away to try to steer his focus onto something else. “You mean <em> we </em> need a break? Or <em> George </em> does?”</p><p>Dream stared at him in bewilderment momentarily. “Look, Skeppy, I know you’re worried for Bad. We all are but-”</p><p>“And you think taking a break is going to help Bad?”</p><p>“Are you okay? I don’t understand where this is coming from? You know we’ve been trying our best here.”</p><p>Skeppy looked to the side with a glare. <em> Maybe our best isn’t enough, </em> the words echoed in George’s head and he frowned.</p><p>“Can we please stop fighting and just eat breakfast in silence.” Sapnap said all the sudden, clearly uncomfortable and missing his usual twinkle of mischief. They stopped talking at the sound of Sapnap’s quiet intervention. George wasn’t sure how the situation had escalated so quickly, but the tension at the table was so heavy it was impossible to ignore. Despite wanting to say something, he was too afraid to rile anyone up further, so he opted for sitting quietly instead.</p><p>Skeppy huffed, resting his chin on his palm and turning to glare at a family walking through the parking lot. Dream stared at the table with uncertainty, his expression shrouded with guilt. Sapnap leaned back on his seat, shaking his head slightly in disapproval and looking like he was holding something back. In an attempt to distract himself, George settled for getting back to people-watching.</p><p>The waitress returned with their food in hand and served them each their plates and then excused herself with a polite smile that didn’t do much to ease the tension at the table.</p><p>He attempted to eat to the vibrant restaurant ambience, but the contrasting aura at the table made his stomach sick—Skeppy’s irritable scraping of his fork against his plate, the way Sapnap’s jaw was clenched and he hadn’t taken his eyes off the plate during the whole meal, the tense words clearly edging at Dream’s throat, and the strange girl behind them whose anxiety grew by the second. George gripped the pendant at his neck and controlled his breathing, leaving his plate unfinished. The tension at George’s shoulders winded like an impending trouble was arising in the background.</p><p>The bell at the entrance dinged as two police officers made their way inside calmly, surveying the scene. He tightened his grip on his necklace and hurriedly turned away. He only saw them sit down at the bar from the corner of his eye, busy in conversation with each other.</p><p><em> It’s fine. They’re just here to eat. Keep calm and you’ll be fine, </em> he told himself. But the murmur inside his head suggested otherwise.</p><p>A strange sensation blended into the air around them, one he didn’t recognize yet he knew he’d sensed before. It was like his head was suddenly dipped underwater by an unknown presence. The closest he could describe it as was accidentally being caught in one of his classmate’s projection spells during a group psychic evaluation. It was powerful and aching for disorder. It was undoubtedly a Psychic.</p><p>It happened too quickly.</p><p>A waitress passing beside them tripped on an invisible force and her tray came crashing down, a cacophony of plates and cups shattering and breaking the cheerful restaurant aura. Everyone fell silent.</p><p>George pursed his lips, staring at the woman certain he hadn’t been the one to cause the accident. He shook his head at Dream’s silent question and then searched the room frantically for the source of power.</p><p>And then it hit him. A truckload of fear, remorse, and disorder struck him so hard he physically had to grip the table.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Dream was the first to ask.</p><p>George’s eyes instantly landed on the girl behind them—the one who was glancing around in a panic as people started helping the waitress get up and clean the mess.</p><p>“She’s a Psychic,” was all he managed as he attempted to block out the strength of her riled emotions to prevent them from getting stuck in an empathetic feedback loop.</p><p>He heard Dream curse under his breath. Sapnap’s breath hitched when the plates at the old couple’s table beside the girl shattered. The lady yelped and caught the attention from the surrounding tables. Everyone was looking around, wondering what the hell was going on.</p><p>The girl’s emotions grew more frantic. A few more glasses shattered and some of the items on her table began to levitate. </p><p>The man beside her jerked off his chair and backed up. He raised a shaky finger to point at the girl. “She’s one of them!”</p><p>The girl searched the crowd in shock. She opened her mouth and closed it repeatedly. An incomprehensible blabber escaped her.</p><p>“Call the cops!” someone shouted, and it caught the attention of the two officers seated near the entrance.</p><p>Dream tried to jump to his feet, but George clutched his arm before he could run out of the booth and pulled him back. Dream glanced at him with a frown and said, “She’s scared.”</p><p>But George only tightened his hold, staring at Dream with an unusual darkness to his brown eyes. Dream unlatched his arm from George’s wrist, glaring intensely at him before attempting to get up again. George didn’t let him. Instead, he held him sternly in place with his mind while simultaneously struggling to block the girl out.</p><p>“George. Let me go,” Dream said through his teeth, threatening and grim—a tone that wasn’t unfamiliar to George but that he’d never heard Dream use on him.</p><p>In a rush, Skeppy was quick to talk, saying exactly what was on George’s mind. “If we help. We’ll be on their radar too.”</p><p>Dream’s jaw tightened. He looked toward Sapnap who appeared extremely troubled. Hesitantly, Sapnap forced himself to speak. “You’re the one who said we can’t cause a scene. We’re already on the news, Dream.”</p><p>The girl jumped from her seat, scrambled through the tables toward the exit when the officers rushed toward her.</p><p>“Stop!” one of them called out.</p><p>The first officer was blocked by a chair flying backwards at full force and pinning him against a table, causing him to release a pained groan. The second managed to tackle the girl to the ground, holding her wrists behind her back and trying to unhook his handcuffs from his belt. A few more plates and glasses crashed around them. People scrambled out of the restaurant. Others took cover with their arms to block the flying pieces of glass. The officer holding the girl down shielded his face from a plate crashing against his back</p><p>Dream struggled against his hold. It made the inside of his head feel like it was about to implode from the energy he was expending. But George only held tighter, like he was teetering at the edge of a cliff and a single wrong move would knock him over the ledge. He didn’t even realize he was gripping the table so hard until his nails made ugly scratch sounds against the wood.</p><p>“We can’t, Dream.” His voice came out strained and barely there. It made Dream stop struggling for a moment, enough to break their mind block and get inside his head to calm him. It succeeded in making Dream still.</p><p>The first officer joined his partner in holding down the girl. He opened the pouch on his belt and retrieved an item that made his blood run cold. The ruckus came to a halt when the man injected her with the tranquilizer. Every item floating in the air crashed to the ground. The empathetic force that had been straining on his mind vanished into nothingness, leaving him slightly drowsy and with the chilling trace of a presence in his mind gone.</p><p>His heart leapt to his throat as he watched the officers drag the unconscious girl away, the crowd breaking into claps and cheers. It left an ugly mark in George’s mind, only inviting his shadow pursuer in to settle around his shoulders murmuring unpleasant thoughts that left him guilt-ridden and ashamed.</p><p>It didn’t help that the pure unbridled rage filtering out of Dream erupted in his stomach as soon as the door shut. George physically recoiled as he rushed to break the empath connection between them and bring back their mind block. Dream’s anger was so overwhelming it left his heart racing and his body feeling unpleasantly hot.</p><p>The car ride was eerily silent.</p><p>They had rushed to pay without finishing their meal. George avoided looking at the police officers who were standing by their cars waiting for backup outside. His fingers sizzled with a residue of energy and an unfamiliar morbid craving that chilled his spine. He tried to dismiss the image of the officer’s snapped necks and sprawled out, bloody bodies on the concrete his mind conjured.</p><p>The only sound came from the low radio playing a popular pop song and the tired rash of the wheels against the road. Skeppy was on the driver’s seat intensely focused on the road ahead. Sapnap was on shotgun, his elbow inclined on the door and fixated on the establishments as they passed. Dream was glaring at the seat in front of him, knuckles white as snow. His emotions were bitter and clear, not bothering to shield them from George, and he struggled to breathe with the suffocating resentment taking to the air. George lowered his window a centimeter, though the fresh air didn’t do much to calm him.</p><p>After a few hours of distractedly trying to focus on his book, they finally stopped at a small shopping district to buy supplies. The afternoon sky was ashen and overcast, making it apparent that a storm was brewing in the horizon.</p><p>Everything seemed to be going according to plan, even if Dream hadn’t spoken a word since the diner, Sapnap had barely offered a peep in response to Skeppy’s questions, and Skeppy was growing increasingly frustrated.</p><p>The thrift store was dull and silent. It smelled like the inside of a damp attic and the dust particles in the air made him turn up his nose as they walked inside. Most of the articles of clothing and random items were disordered and cluttered, a few shirts sprawn under the racks and food wrappers littered on the shelves.</p><p>Save for the shopkeeper sitting at the cashier with his legs propped on the counter watching a football game and slurping noodles from an instant ramen cup, there was only one other lady in the store swiping the racks at the women’s section while her daughter sat beside her playing pretend with her stuffed animals. The little girl smiled wide and showed off her missing teeth when George walked by. He returned the gesture with a much less cheerful expression and followed his friends to the men’s section.</p><p>If the guilt of what had gone down at the diner wasn’t already weighing him down enough, Dream’s anger was still prodding and obvious. It was starting to get on George’s nerves—the way his best friend avoided so much as sparing him a glare, acting like George was nonexistent. </p><p>He observed Dream for the majority of the time as he shopped, waiting to see if he’d acknowledge him, but he never did. George desperately wanted to say something, whether to scream at him for refusing to understand where he was coming from or profusely apologize for forcing him away when he most wanted to help. George just wanted to talk. But the words refused to come out. He wanted Dream to talk first, to apologize first, to tell George he understood him and that his reasons for refusing to save a poor girl were valid. But he knew that’d never happen. George was too stubborn and Dream was too angry to apologize first.</p><p>It was terribly ironic, really. Just a few hours ago they’d been at what appeared to be the highest point in their friendship, embraced tightly in bed on a Thursday morning. Now, the unspoken stress weighed so heavy George wanted nothing but to distance himself.</p><p>Skeppy and Sapnap disappeared somewhere into the other side of the store at one point, leaving him alone with Dream. George had a sneaking suspicion it’d been intentional. The silence grew too much for George, and he just wanted Dream to say something, anything. Perhaps that’s why he said what he said.</p><p>“It had to happen.”</p><p>Even from the back, George saw the way Dream’s shoulders tensed. The ping of the hangers striking each other as he scrolled through the rack halted. He heard Dream sigh, and a messed up part of George couldn’t help but take a bit of enjoyment out of the way he triggered Dream with a single phrase. The other side of him only wondered if this vile aspect of George was only coming to light due to this unbidden stress or if it had always been a part of him, buried under layers of insecurity.</p><p>Dream turned with an intimidating glare that could rival even Medusa herself. “What did, George?” He spat his name like venom in his mouth. It caused George to wince, though instead of feeling guilty, Dream’s anger invigorated this sadistic side of him like fuel to a fire. “Letting an innocent girl be tranqued and not doing anything to save her?”</p><p>“We couldn’t do anything.”</p><p>“That’s bullshit and you know it!” The infuriated exclamation caught the attention of the mother and her daughter shopping a few meters away. Taking the girl into her arms, the woman hurried toward the exit. He felt a tinge of guilt, but it was quickly overridden by a surge of animosity. His eyes found Dream’s again—a blazing stare that bore through him like a laser.</p><p>Getting more impatient, he shifted his weight to the other foot, frowning decisively at him. “You said we’d do everything to save Bad.”</p><p>“This doesn’t have anything to do with Bad,” Dream growled, stomping closer, so close his ragged breathing felt humid on his face. “You let a poor girl be taken to who knows where, a facility for all you know. What you’ve been afraid of since you got to AGE!” His stare was not only angry, but George could see the hurt and betrayal in his eyes. The brewing disappointment that stabbed into George’ chest and made it hard to breathe. It only riled him up further. “We did nothing when we could’ve done something!”</p><p>“Of course I know that!” George yelled back, his arms doing circles over his head and ending up scratching through his hair as he paced back and forth. His voice was on the verge of angry tears. “I’ve lived with that fear since I discovered I was a fucking Psychic, but right now,” he emphasized his words by pointing an aggressive finger at the ground, their gazes intensely locked onto each other. “<em> Right now </em> our priority is not getting caught and being arrested because if we do, who knows what’s going to happen to Bad?” He took a breath, tears threatening to spill, fury outpouring from his chest and encompassing them both. Something inside his mind prodded, asking to come out. George almost considered releasing it. His voice cracked. “What’s going to happen to <em> us, </em> Dream?”</p><p>“Yeah?” Dream remarked in spite, his movements jagged and tense and he closed the gap between them again. His next words were a murmur spoken with rage and without regret. “Because of <em> you, </em> that girl’s <em> never </em> going to have a chance to even live a normal life.”</p><p>George couldn't speak. His words were caught on his throat, and he could hardly take a proper breath, shame and anger merging together hot and ready to blow through him. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all—blaming him when Dream knew. He <em> knew </em> that as soon as they intervened, they’d be taken in along with the girl and both her and George would end up fucked. Him more than her. George had no chance to escape from a situation like that, not after the bullshit they’d pulled back in Florida.</p><p>“Is that really what you mean, Dream?” he said, words barely audible and full of nothing but malice. Inside, his demon was beating his head aching to be let loose and take control of the situation. “Or are you afraid to admit that if you wanted to, you could’ve stepped in. You <em> know </em> you’re strong enough to break through my telekinesis.” He forced a finger against Dream’s chest, their eyes fixated on each other with nothing but pure fury. “But you acted like a coward too.”</p><p>In less than a second, Dream had him pinned against one of the clothing racks, his fists bunched around the fabric of his shirt and raising him to his tip-toes. Every one of his limbs was urging him to fight back. But George kept a straight face, only his furrows burrowed and the same darkness from before clouding his eyes. In his head, he could hear the shadow whispering its forlorn curses—telling him he could take Dream, demanding he let it out.</p><p>He almost did. Until Sapnap rushed toward them to push them away from each other and stood in between with his arms extended, infuriated. The silence was heavy on his ears. All he wanted to do was scream and tear it apart. </p><p>“The hell is going on with you guys!?” It wasn’t a question. Sapnap exhaled, pressing a finger to the bridge of his nose and glaring at both of them. “Get back to the car. We’re not doing this here.”</p><p>Sapnap waited until Dream started walking to follow, eyeing George to make sure he came along too.</p><p>Skeppy quietly joined them a few minutes later with a shopping bag, and Sapnap took the front seat, leaving Dream and George in the back avoiding each other. It was suffocating.</p><p>They drove in absolute silence, the radio having lost the station it was playing hours into the empty, middle-of-nowhere road. George’s fingers gripped his book tightly as he struggled to even get past the first sentence. The top of his page ripped when he turned it. His jaw tightened, his own tension and that of Dream’s settling in his gut. However, as the time passed, his anger dissipated, replaced by a growing remorse that he refused to think about.</p><p>It rained the rest of the way.</p><p>The second motel they stopped at for the week looked even more decrepit than the first—a tiny c-shaped bundle of barely a dozen rooms. The worker behind the counter looked about done with his job, and when Skeppy asked for two rooms, he responded to him with a blank stare and a quiet grumble. “Only got one room.”</p><p>“But there weren’t that many cars in the parking lot,” Sapnap said.</p><p>The guy with long black bangs and huge purple bags under his eyes glared, crude and unamused as before. “One room.”</p><p>George sent Dream a side-glance when he didn’t even bother intervening and instead leaned against the wall behind them grimly staring at the guy with his arms crossed. Skeppy looked about done with everything, so he simply threw him the money, snatched the key he’d placed on the desk and stormed toward the designated number.</p><p>Like the last motel, there were two beds and a sofa. The television looked to be from a hundred years ago, beat down with age and accompanied by a remote half-wrapped in duct tape to keep it from falling apart. The white walls were starting to yellow, and when George turned on the only lamp in the room, he had to twist the bulb a few times to get it to stop flickering.</p><p>“I’ll take the bed with Skeppy,” Sapnap muttered as they looked in between each other.</p><p>George glimpsed at Dream who didn’t even think before saying, “I’ll sleep on the couch.” </p><p>It stung. Especially after the night they’d spent together. George couldn’t help the twisted fear settling in his stomach as he remembered the nightmares that were no doubt getting ready to strike amid the darkness.</p><p>Dream took the first shower without question and George found himself breathing a little easier. Unfortunately, both Skeppy and Sapnap seemed to be in a similar emotional haze. Skeppy was off in his own world as he searched through the late-night channels. His aura was stagnant, but he could sense a distant shame he was clearly holding back both from himself and George. </p><p>Sapnap’s aura was unusually dull and kept to himself. At one point, George tried to walk over to apologize, but he turned away before he could get any closer, so George decided to give him space instead. He hated that Sapnap had been caught in the crossfire of his argument with Dream, especially because George knew his loyalty to the both of them was unyielding. He’d never want to put Sapnap in a place where he had to choose between them, and despite their ugly argument, he doubted Dream did either.</p><p>When it was finally his turn to take the last shower, he dashed inside, closing the door and finally gaining a moment completely to himself with his own emotions. The cold, dingy water drops hitting his skin gave him enough external feeling to drown out the static in his head. The lights were off when he got out and his friends were already tucked in bed. He silently headed for his own bed, only glimpsing at Dream who was facing the couch cushions.</p><p>He buried himself in the sheets and closed his eyes, and it wasn’t long before the now familiar and unpleasant coldness cloaked his neck and shoulders, sending goosebumps all throughout his body. In the back of his head, he could hear the same hushed, shadowy whispers as he continuously drifted into a stage between sleep from how exhausted his body felt and awakened as every time the murmurs grew louder, it stirred him back to consciousness.</p><p>In the middle of the night, he heard someone shuffle and get out of bed, and when he opened his eyes, he noticed the spot on the bed next to Skeppy was empty and the door was closing quietly. He pushed the sheets aside and got up to investigate.</p><p>Outside, Sapnap was lying on the back of their truck facing the sky. The post-storm air was humid and dingy, petrichor permeated into the wind and masking his face. George quietly approached, shivering slightly at the chilly night and burying his hands into the pocket of his red hoodie.</p><p>He stood by the truck for a while, wondering if Sapnap was ignoring him or if he simply hadn’t noticed his presence. Sapnap was stuck in a daze—his eyes fixated on the sky and his mouth settled into a slight frown. Both his hands were comfortably placed above his stomach, and he remained unmoving. </p><p>George would’ve thought he was asleep had it not been for his open eyes and his awakened emotions staining the air—a spurt of concern twisted with quiet alarm. Sapnap kept still as George settled himself next to him, shifting his gaze toward the galaxy above: millions of stars, all shapes and sizes scattered into an explosion of beauty.</p><p>“The sky looks nice,” he said.</p><p>Sapnap nodded.</p><p>George swallowed, putting his hands over his chest and mindlessly fidgeting with his pendant as he calmed his breathing. He tried not to let Sapnap’s emotions swarm over him.</p><p>“Are you okay?” he asked a few minutes into their quiet stargazing.</p><p>“I don’t know. You tell me,” he replied dryly.</p><p>George shifted uncomfortably. He closed his eyes and pursed his lips as he prepared for the unavoidable subject. “You’re angry.”</p><p>“Damn right I am,” Sapnap said almost instantly. “I don’t understand why you guys are acting this way—making this all about y’all.”</p><p>Without having much of an explanation to offer, George replied, “We’re not trying to-”</p><p>Sapnap interrupted him with a tired groan, rubbing his eyes frustratedly and sitting up. Finding it awkward to continue lying, George followed his lead and let his hands fall on his lap. </p><p>“I know you’re not, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are. Bad’s in trouble and you’re here fighting and I-” He searched for the proper words, brows scrunched up in aggravation and pent-up rage. Exhaling and glancing down at his lap, his expression relaxed into a disappointed look. “It’s not going to help us. All this fighting. Between Dream and Skeppy. Between you and Dream. Everything.” He waved his arms in the air.</p><p>There was something deeper behind his emotions. George pricked at it, attempting to uncover and analyze it. However, to no avail and exhausted by the strain of his powers in a single day, he said, “Are you sure it’s just that?”</p><p>Sapnap pulled his knees to his chest and hugged them. His eyes rose to the stars again, a gentle light kindling in his dark pupils as they reflected the light above. Hesitantly, he admitted, “I was afraid of going on this trip.”</p><p>When he paused, George almost poked fun at him instinctively, but he bit his tongue to keep himself from opening his mouth at an inappropriate time. “But then I thought, hey, maybe this will bring us closer together, y’know? Save Bad, go on a road trip, have a little fun on the way there to keep our mind off things. And now-”</p><p>The words felt like needles prickling at his throat. George knew exactly what he meant. Sapnap’s tongue got stuck in the roof of his mouth, his sentence fizzling away, so George finished for him. “It’s turning out to be a mess.”</p><p>The forlorn whistling wind took to the night and so did the chorus of cricket chirps and nocturnal insects. George hugged his arms, rubbing his sides to seek warmth, but nothing appeared to help the frigid sensation encompassing him from the inside. He found himself thinking about Dream’s tight embrace on instinct, but he pushed the thought away.</p><p>“I’m scared.” Sapnap said, words fragile and hushed, so much it felt like they would shatter with even the slightest pressure. “That it’s going to tear us apart.” </p><p>It reminded him of that night all those years ago—when him and Sapnap had first connected. Before then, they’d treated each other like cats and dogs. They still did, but it was no longer out of spite. Sapnap and Dream had fallen into a rhythm of friendship fairly easily, partly because Dream was so kind and charming with everyone he met and partly because they just clicked.</p><p>On the other hand, Sapnap and George had struggled a fair bit, their interactions often ending in jealous spouts, especially when it came to spending time with Dream. Sapnap had gotten attached to Dream very quickly, and seeing as Dream was George’s only friend back then, it resulted in a messed up game of tug of war that left the trio at awkward ends.</p><p>And then, when George was eleven, Dream had decided on his own terms to take some time to himself. He told them to fix their friendship because he sure as hell wasn’t going to do it for them. So they’d been forced to talk—for real that time. Though even after they’d reached an agreement to at least respect each other because they both cared so much about Dream, they always kept each other at arm’s length and there was barely any depth to their interactions.</p><p>It wasn’t until that night that everything changed. That they really started calling each other friends.</p><p>George shuffled closer to Sapnap, inhaling lightly before awkwardly resting his head on his shoulder. Sapnap didn’t move, instead relaxed his body to the unexpected contact. George wasn’t at all a touchy person, but he knew Sapnap was more similar to Dream in that aspect, often seeking hugs and kisses to the cheek (that he always paired with a “no homo” after).</p><p>Sapnap’s breath ruffled George’s hair when he let out a heavy sigh. “You guys are my family.”</p><p>“Nothing’s going to tear us apart,” George whispered.</p><p>“You don’t know that.”</p><p>George frowned, looking up and noticing the small tear trailing its way down his cheek. Sapnap wiped it off, fluttering his eyes shut a few times and then forcing a smile. “It tore my family apart.”</p><p>The night wind picking up enveloped George’s neck, and the pressure from Sapnap’s hurt settled inside his chest. It was shocking, to say the least, hearing Sapnap even mention his family. Although George knew Dream’s family (not personally but he’d at least seen them at the island), he had never once seen Sapnap’s, not even a single picture. He wasn’t even aware of any siblings, if he had any.</p><p>Similar to Dream, Sapnap had always been an expressive, heart-on-the-sleeve sorta guy. Yet, despite it, he rarely spoke about his family life, even after almost a decade of knowing him. The only vague hints he’d gotten about his negative relationship with his parents were the rare shouting his headphones caught every so often when they played Minebuild during the breaks and Sapnap went off the keyboard to do something. </p><p>“We used to be so close.” He glanced down at his hands, gripping an invisible object tightly, distant eyes glazed into a painful memory. George had to physically pull away, ground himself in his own emotions and exhale deeply, releasing Sapnap’s heavy emotions off of him to keep calm. He opened his palm to reveal a flame the size of a matchstick. It reflected on his eyes like two tiny orbs of heat. They flickered off when the muggy wind picked up and extinguished the flame. “Then the day my powers showed up, I almost accidentally burned the house down and…”</p><p>He snickered, full of anguish and without a trace of amusement, the kind of desperate laugh that comes out after you realize you’re too tired to hide it—revealing years-worth of repressed pain constantly aching at your throat, settling in the back of your head and pricking you every time things start to go wrong. It’s the kind you swallow and hold back and then tell yourself everything is fine. George knew his laugh. He knew it too well. And it was only then that he realized the true extent of Sapnap’s act—what he’d been hiding in plain sight and George had failed to notice, even though now, sitting in front of him, it was unmistakable. It made him feel like he’d failed his best friend.</p><p>“They fought everyday on whether they should put me in repression therapy or send me away. Every fucking day.” More tears rolled down his cheeks. His eyebrows scrunched with frustration and regret, and he appeared lost staring light years away. “I was always the one to tell my sisters everything was fine when they asked, and when my parents realized it was tearing the family apart, they made their decision.”</p><p>“They sent you to AGE…” George finished for him when he couldn’t. He turned away when Sapnap’s aura grew too painful for him not to drown in. It wasn’t until this moment that he understood. That he remembered.</p><p>He placed a hand at his shoulder. “It’s not going to tear us apart, Sapnap,” George said, an unfamiliar assurance seeped in his tone. </p><p>“You can’t know that.”</p><p>“I don’t, but our bond is too strong to be broken. Not after everything we’ve gone through. What we will go through.”</p><p>“If you and Dream keep doing this-” Sapnap pursed his chapped lips together. “It’s going to tear us apart.”</p><p>Their gazes locked—George’s rare confident gaze and Sapnap’s unusually vulnerable eyes, his courage drowned out of him. The one trait George had always admired and the one that made him Sapnap. There was only one sentence running through his mind, one George hadn’t meant to pry into and catch.</p><p>
  <em> You’re going to leave me behind. </em>
</p><p>George’s breath hitched. “We won’t. I promise. I’ll talk to him.”</p><p>Sapnap pondered it and after a moment, he said, “Aren’t you worried about what’s going to happen?”</p><p>“Yeah.” George’s hand reached for his pendant and gripped it tightly as he looked toward the sky. Images of his nightmares clouded his mind, coming in flashes. “I’m scared I’ll hurt you guys.”</p><p>Sapnap laughed, this one lighter and somewhat amused, and slapped his arm to which George made it a point to whine exaggeratedly at. “You might be an <em> arsehole </em>-” he mocked his accent, causing George to roll his eyes “-sometimes, but you’d never hurt us.”</p><p>“How can you be so sure?”</p><p>Sapnap shrugged, unmoved by his uncertainty. “Apart from being scrawny and short?”</p><p>George elbowed him, sporting the smallest of smiles. “Shut up. You’re only like an inch taller than me.”</p><p>Sapnap snorted. “You love us too much.” His crooked smile held that mischief that often annoyed George but also made him smile. “<em> Especially </em> Dream.” </p><p>George scoffed, turning to face the middle-of-nowhere horizon. A comfortable silence fell upon them.</p><p>“You ready to hit the hay?” Sapnap eventually asked.</p><p>George hesitated, and he didn’t even have time to make up an excuse before Sapnap noticed the tension arise in his body.</p><p>“You okay?”</p><p>“I’m-” George thought about making up an excuse, but after the conversation that had just taken place, something inside him drove him not to. “I’ve been having nightmares.”</p><p>“And…” Sapnap narrowed his eyes as he scanned him. “You haven’t been sleeping well because of it?”</p><p>“Not really, it’s just-” George exhaled, facing the ground. “It’s weird. I can’t really sleep by myself.”</p><p>Sapnap paused before his mouth curved into a teasing smile and he wrapped his arm around George’s shoulders to pull him close. “If you wanted me to cuddle with you, you could’ve just asked, Georgie!”</p><p>“You idiot, I don’t want to cuddle!” George grumbled, though he couldn’t contain his escaped laugh.</p><p>“Georgie wants to cuddle with me! Georgie wants to cuddle with me!” Sapnap shouted, alerting anyone within a mile radius of their presence and making George’s face turn into a tomato.</p><p>“Get off me!” George finally managed to push him off with a whine.</p><p>Sapnap hopped off the truck, nodding his head toward their room. “Come on. Let’s go to bed. Don’t worry, we can keep the socks on if you want,” he said and paired it with a wink.</p><p>Sapnap laughed as George jumped off and chased after him. The moonlight shone a little brighter through the tinted windows when they got back inside, and when George and Sapnap finally tucked themselves in the bed by the window, he managed to suppress the nightmares for at least one more night.</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em> Sleep had never been an issue for George. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> As a toddler, his parents had been appalled by his ability to tuck himself into bed and pass out in an instant. George had always been a dreamer. Not only did he daydream awake, drowning himself in fantasy worlds and magical settings, but his dreams at night were vivid and clear—even consisting of memories from his past sometimes, memories of those he was closest to. He could recall every detail about his dreams even after he awoke. It also made his nightmares all the more terrifying, awaking in a cold sweat and breathing heavily, the remnants of his monstrous pursuers remaining even as he reached for reality. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> But tonight, his nightmares weren’t the ones keeping him awake, so late it seemed the sun was on the verge of peeking over the horizon. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It had been two weeks since Dream had told George and Sapnap off. Two weeks since they’d talked. He’d known Sapnap for almost a year, yet it hadn’t been until now that they’d really openly spoken about their so-called friendship. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> And tonight, he had spent all night pondering it. There was no particular reason for it. Their dynamic with Dream had finally returned to normal, and they were no longer ignoring each other’s existence or arguing around him (dismissing their few non-serious squabbles about stupid things like when Sapnap grabbed a pancake off George’s plate one day during breakfast, launched it at the pretty girl who sat in front of him during his first period, and blamed it on George’s powers). </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It was almost foreign—this troubled mindset that had been keeping him up. And in favor of calming his mind (or maybe it was something deeper inside driving him to do it), he decided to go outside for some fresh air. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Perhaps it was how he ended up in the garden at five in the morning in his pajamas and slippers. He found him there. He was sitting on the hidden bench facing the forest that also happened to be a popular spot for couples to sneak away and hang out at (or whatever it is they did, George didn’t want to think about it). </em>
</p><p>
  <em> He was sobbing quietly as he stared at his open palms on his lap, a tiny flame illuminating the lines of tears on his cheeks and his fragile glass eyes. He looked so different here without his signature grin and his dumb banter, without that spark of vitality and warmth that he admittedly brought to their trio. It felt like George was meeting him again for the first time, this time only bumping into him outside as opposed to literally crashing with him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Sapnap?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sapnap jerked up, the flame on his palms dying and shrouding his silhouette in darkness. “What are you doing here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George approached with caution. He sat down on the other side of the bench, leaving a meter of distance in between them. “Taking a walk.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “In the middle of the night?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “What are you doing here?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sapnap didn’t answer, instead turned away and hugged himself like he was cold, an odd gesture seeing as fire types tended to be the warmest of the Elementals. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I thought you were supposed to leave for winter break today,” George muttered. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My parents didn’t pick me up this year.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Why not?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sensing he didn’t want to elaborate further, George chose to stare out toward the woods, attempting to find the right words. Unfortunately, he had never been good at comforting people. That had always been Dream’s job. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I don’t go home during winter breaks either,” he settled for saying. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You don’t?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George shook his head and offered him a light smile. “They say it’s too dangerous for me to be outside of the island.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That must suck.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It does.” George sighed, fingers toying with his pendant. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get out of here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Sapnap lowered his gaze, his shoulders rising and falling as he released a couple of quiet sniffles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “But then I remember it’s not all bad. I wouldn’t have met Dream or you if I hadn’t come here.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It seemed to catch Sapnap off-guard, seeing as he stopped sniffling and he looked his way. The night was too dark for George to properly discern his expression. “Me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George nodded slowly. “I know we fight a lot, but you and Dream have always been the nicest to me here. You’re my friends.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> When Sapnap took too long to answer, George feared he’d taken his comment as dishonest. That was until two arms suddenly wrapped around him, Sapnap burying his head into his shoulder and sniffling into it. Surprised, George’s body tensed up and he took a second to react, but his arms cautiously settled around his torso. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “My friends back in Texas…” Sapnap finally admitted into his shoulder, turning his head so George could only see his hair. “They left after they found out what I was, even though we always told each other we’d be friends for life.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> George smiled into his shoulder, pulling him closer and squeezing his eyes shut, knowing all too well what he meant. “We’ll never do that.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “You promise?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I promise.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>How are we feeling? Who's right? Dream or George? Did they mess up by not helping the girl? What would've happened had they helped her? How's Sapnap going to push them to talk? What's gonna happen next!? Have you taken a sip of water at all since you started reading? If not, do that right now!</p><p>Let me know your thoughts in the comments or @ me on Twitter/Tumblr! Also, y'all feel free to theorize, share headcanons, etc. all you want! I don't mind it and it actually makes me smile so wide :D</p><p>Y'all are the brightest part of my day nowadays so thank you for being such an amazing audience! </p><p><b> Go check out and support <a href="https://oyo-yo.tumblr.com/post/646113619638173698/have-you-heard-of-aquaman-forever-ago-i-asked"> this amazing fan art @Oyo-oyo made about Chapter 5 </a> on Tumblr, they literally almost had me in tears because it's so thoughtful and beautiful </b> 🥺</p><p>¡Gracias por todo su apoyo! I wouldn't be able to do this without y'all! </p><p>Con un grandisimo abrazo, </p><p>Light &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Nashville</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Have I mentioned Grav is the best beta around? Yes? Oh well, I'll never get tired of saying it :))</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Dealing with conflict wasn’t exactly one of George’s fortes—especially when it came to dealing with his best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They didn’t fight often, but when they did, George often refused to be the one to confront Dream. As stubborn as Dream was, he always ended up being the one to start their apologetic conversations. Yet it’d been almost a day since their fight and Dream had yet to approach him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was admittedly a stupid argument. Dream had pressured George to use his powers so they could hide in a tree from Sapnap while playing hide and seek. Dream had obviously climbed the tree effortlessly, leaving George staring up and wondering how in the world he was supposed to reach him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just try to levitate yourself or something!” Dream insisted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not supposed to use my powers outside of class.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream groaned and rolled his eyes. “It’s not like they’ll know. Come on, he’s going to find us!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m not going to do it. It’s dangerous!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s what they’ve told you, George. But have you ever thought that maybe it’s only dangerous because you make it dangerous?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George frowned, crossing his arms as he glared up at Dream. “You have no idea what it’s like to be a Psychic, so how would you know?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just stop making it such a big deal and get up here.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh, so now you think my powers aren’t a big deal?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why are you angry? It’s not that-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Whatever. I’m leaving.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They hadn’t spoken since that afternoon, and the next morning during breakfast, they had avoided each other’s gazes, leaving Sapnap to sit awkwardly in the middle and try to diffuse the situation.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>If George’s day wasn’t already turning out to be dreadful, then came his Intro to the History of Extramundanes class. Ms. Lamar had assigned them to create a presentation on an influential figure of their class and type, leaving George to choose from a very limited list of the Psychics who weren’t looked at as complete menaces in society.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His presentation had started off fine. Despite the distracted glances he kept sending Dream who was sitting near the middle of the classroom staring out the window with his arms crossed, he was mostly able to keep the tremble out of his voice, even when a third of his classmates coughed and snickered at random times to purposely throw him off track.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“- and so Julian Hernandez played a crucial role in allowing Psychics a fair trial under verbal oath and a polygraph test during the 2070s.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was awkwardly silent for a second, and George wasn’t sure if he should end his presentation a certain way.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fair enough. Any questions for George?” Ms. Lamar asked the class, not bothering to look up from her stack of grading papers. Not that George wasn’t used to being disregarded by her. She wasn’t exactly his favorite teacher during his fifth year at AGE, and he certainly wasn’t her favorite student.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>One of the girls in the front of the class, Alina, raised her hand in an instant.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Um,” George sheepishly glimpsed at Ms. Lamar who was too busy writing to pay them any attention. “Yes?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Alina tilted her head slightly and forced a smile that made George’s stomach rumble. “How exactly do you justify Psychics having a fair trial when some of them are telepaths?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well, that’s what the polygraph tests are for…”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But the latest polygraph tests are only ninety percent accurate and, as we all know,” she glanced around the classroom with a snicker, the discussion gaining the attention of the few students who had been distractedly doing other things while George was presenting. “Psychics are known to be great manipulators.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George clasped his hands together. He glanced anxiously at his classmates to see if anyone would help. Dream was still too distracted looking out the window to pay attention. Sapnap, who was sitting at the back of the classroom, frowned at him before offering a reassuring smile.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Gulping, he tried to keep his voice straight when he answered,“That’s, uh, a misconception about Psychics. I, um, explained…” The collar of his shirt felt constricting around his neck, and he pulled it slightly to breathe better. “... during my presentation, most Psychics receive an unfair trial even with legislation in place due to these harmful-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think it’s fair,” Alina interrupted loudly to gain the attention of the whole class. The stare she was giving him made him want to curl up and hide under a rock and never come out again. “My great grandfather was killed because of a Psychic’s ‘accidental’ freakout, and if this law had existed back then, that murderer might’ve gotten away with it and hurt somebody else.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If it was accidental then-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just face it. Psychics are dangerous, and I don’t even know why they’re allowed in this school. You should be locked up in a facility for the safety of everyone else,” she finished with a patronizing tone that almost drove him to excuse himself to the restroom and stay in there for the rest of the class. But before he could, he heard a chair scrape against the floor in the back and saw Sapnap standing up with a determined frown.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Shut up!” Sapnap said, gaining the attention from everyone including Ms. Lamar. “George has nothing to do with your great grandfather’s accident.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Says the boy who’s always burning plants in the building,” another voice called out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah! Aren’t you too old to still be having accidents?” shouted someone else.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George flinched when someone slammed their palms on their desk so loud it echoed across the class and made everyone go silent. Looking for the source of the sound, he spotted Dream standing and sending his classmates a glare that could cut straight through someone. “You’re all assholes for harassing people over something they have no control over.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It worked for a moment until somebody shouted, “They’re dangerous!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s the argument normal people out there use on us. By that logic, we’re all dangerous! You guys just don’t like to admit you like bullying people because it makes you feel better.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s enough of that! Sit down, Dream.” Ms. Lamar raised her voice as she stood from her desk. Dream’s jaw tightened, but once he met his eyes and saw George looking at him with a pleading expression, he hesitantly sat back down. Ms. Lamar stern gaze locked onto George. “Get back to your seat, George. And whoever’s next go. We don’t have all day.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream didn’t take his worried gaze off of George as he shuffled back to his desk a few seats away from his. He offered a small smile to let him know he was okay. When he saw Dream perk up and turn around, a warmth enveloped the inside of his chest and he stared at his paper with a smile for the rest of the period.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After class, the trio settled for picking up their lunch from the mess hall and eating in the garden today (if anything to avoid the glares coming from Alina’s table, or as Sapnap liked to call them, the snotty Bio-E table and their pet shifter Harry).</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks for defending me today,” George told both of them, somewhat embarrassed he hadn’t yet been able to stand up for himself on his own.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Alina’s a bitchy know-it-all. She deserves it,” Sapnap replied as he bit into his hamburger. He cringed when he did and then opened a flame in his palm to heat it up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Dream said suddenly, gaining George’s attention. “I shouldn’t have pressured you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad at you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They stared at each other for a second until Sapnap exhaled loudly. “Finally. I was starting to think I was going to have to talk to myself every meal.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George chuckled lightly while Dream burst into wheezes, the corners of his mouth wrinkling in the cute way they always did when he laughed a little too hard.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George and I are the ones who are supposed to fight, not you two,” Sapnap continued, a crooked grin on display.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re so dumb,” George mumbled while rolling his eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s right, though.” Dream pulled George into a side-hug, causing his head to land against his chest. George let out a little whine when it did and tried to push him away with a smile, but Dream only pulled him in closer. “We shouldn’t fight.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Let me go,” George mumbled.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, lovebirds, I’m eating here. Y’all need to get a room.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream wheezed as he opened his arms and let a red-faced George pull away. George awkwardly grabbed his own burger and began to munch on it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Next time you guys fight, I’m going to have to knock some sense into both of you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream shook his head lightly, gold glittering in his pupils as he stared at George with such fondness it made his stomach nervous. “Yeah. If we do, you go ahead and do that.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>The drive to Nashville was uneventful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They awoke that morning on autopilot and took off in record time. Dream was still refusing to direct a word to George besides basic instructions and comments about the plan. Sapnap continued to direct looks toward George through the rearview mirror and signaling toward Dream, and every time, George shook his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wanted to talk to him. He was going to. But it wasn’t the time. Not while Dream was behind the wheel and all four of them were still on edge about the mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Next to George, Skeppy stared out the back window with a blank expression, emotions unreadable, or at least George couldn’t read them with Dream’s aura taking too much space in the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived in the afternoon, the sun out and bright, cascading onto the bricked, historic buildings and lively faces sauntering in the streets. With the windows rolled down, the waft of nearby restaurant food filled the car pleasantly and made George’s stomach rumble lightly seeing as they hadn’t stopped for breakfast this time and only munched on some of their snacks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream parked the car by the hotel they had made a reservation in, and they sat there in deliberate silence for a few minutes. George peeked out the window and watched as three teenagers burst out of a shop with a few garments in hand, cackling and looking back at the store owner. The one furthest back—a boy with shaggy long, black hair—beamed and raised his fist. A gust of wind punched forward, knocking over a few of the chairs and tables in the surrounding area and the store owner as well. George pursed his lips, thinking of the way they were betting their whole lives on a couple of shreds of fabric.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The store owner stood up, raising his fist in anger and slipping his phone out of his back pocket to dial someone. George grimaced, an ugly feeling spreading in his stomach as he turned his attention instead toward a couple fondly feeding each other cake at an outdoor restaurant down the road. Upon realizing the scene wasn’t making him feel any better either, he turned toward the front of the car where he noticed Sapnap’s insistent gaze on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When are you planning to talk to him?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I will. Just give me time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap winced and turned away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy, you’re not going to put up an argument if we stay here for the day and leave tomorrow morning?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy sighed, looking over at Dream and shrugging. “I don’t really have a choice, do I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nope,” Dream clarified after a moment. Through the mirror, he met George’s eyes for less than a second before he exhaled a deep breath and exited the car. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hotel they chose was much nicer than their previous stays. They reserved two rooms with double beds, both spacious and with more modern styles, pretty blue hues accenting the decor and a large bathroom in the back as well as a small kitchenette. Sapnap insisted on sharing a room with Skeppy, and neither Dream nor George put up a fight, though they didn’t exactly speak to each other either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s meet downstairs at five to eat,” Dream had said before dismissing them to their rooms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even as they organized their clothing into their bags (Skeppy had bought them all enough clothing to last them the week), they remained silent. The only sound came from the faint rumble of the air conditioner in the corner of the room. George wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, Dream’s heavy irritation spiked and prevented him from even offering a thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They met up with Skeppy and Sapnap, and after diner, Sapnap insisted to separate from them (some excuse about needing more snacks for the road). Dream had wanted to go shopping alone, but Sapnap pushed George into the trip at the last second without leaving them much room for argument. And so they wandered the energetic evening streets of Nashville, dozens of voices coming from the crowds in every direction as the residents and tourists readied themselves for the nightlife parties at the bars.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream and him stayed almost a meter away from each other. George missed the warmth that was so common between them; now, it felt like there was an ocean separating them. Dream walked with his hands in his pockets, shuffling his feet with less energy than usual and facing forward with a blank expression, jaw tightened like he wanted to open his mouth but something was keeping him from it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George also wanted to talk. He really did. However, he was afraid of their unfinished argument breaking out again, and this time, Sapnap wouldn’t be there to mediate. He turned away, opting for surveying his surroundings as opposed to focusing on the person stuck in his thoughts and blanketing his heavy emotions on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The scene was more animated and energy-filled than he was used to. A group of girls taking a selfie with a wax figure outside a store. A couple of kids laughing at a homeless man sleeping outside a store with a few cups by him with a sign asking for money to buy food. A random girl shooing them away and looking over her shoulder before dropping some soil into one of the cups and growing a small plant. A chicken with tiny plastic baby arms strutting across the street ever-so-calmly as a car honked at it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Dream finally spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-'' George blinked once. Twice. Three times. And yet he still couldn’t find the proper words to describe the scene.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A dozen chickens or so, all with varying types of tiny plastic arms attached to their feathers (boxer gloves, baby arms, T-rex arms) rushed around the street chased down by a huge bearded man twice the size of George and a shorter plump, middle-aged woman holding down her straw hat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Billy! Quick, round up them chickens before them damn coyotes do what they did to por ol’ uncle Fletcher!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shut up, woman! I’m tryin’!” The man replied with desperation in his voice as he hurled himself at the bigger chicken with T-rex arms shaking its wings furiously as it dodged the attack.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well try harder!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the chickens (the one with boxer gloves) sauntered over to them, standing in front of them like it was seeking a fight, clucking insistently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream and George exchanged glances before Dream kneeled down and scooped up the chicken into his arms, the plump bird not putting much of a fight when he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um.” They stopped by the red pickup truck with a large cage in the back, watching as the woman managed to catch two chickens at once. “I have your chicken?” He raised the bird in his arms, petting its head lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, thank you, sweetheart!” She opened the cage, pushed the chickens inside and then took the one in Dream’s arms. She offered them a bright beam before directing her presumably husband a glance. Her gentle motherly tone turned into a murderous wail. “Quickly, Billy! Don’t let Fernando run off!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy finally managed to get a hold of the last chicken (Fernando?), nearly tackling it like a sumo wrestler and struggling to keep it from plucking his arms as it sought its escape and screeched like it was about to be killed. Once all the chickens were safely stored in their cage, Billy and his wife let out a relieved sigh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman eyed the two as they stood awkwardly by the truck, unsure of what to make of the encounter. If George didn’t know any better, he would’ve thought it was a fever dream, but even pinching himself on the inside of his wrist didn’t seem to wake him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well aren’t ya both our heroes?” She shook their hands with too much force and too wide of a beam. “Name’s Shelby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, I’m Dream, and this is George,” Dream replied after taking back his hand and offering a tense smile. “I’m glad you got your, uh…” He glanced at the cage with a puzzled expression, scratching the back of his neck. “Chicken family back..?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George snorted at the dumb quip and Dream elbowed him without much notice from the couple. His heart skipped a beat with the familiar interaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy’s laugh vaguely reminded George of those mall Santas he’d met when he was young. “Well some families got dogs, some families got cats, and some families got chickens. One became two and well, the rest is history!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We really should be on our-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on a second there,” Shelby interrupted Dream as she looked in between them and Billy. “Say, Billy, why don’t we share some of your famous barbecue?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nervously, George replied, “That’s okay. We’ve already eaten, and we have to-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense! Nobody turns down my husband’s barbecue. Billy, give ‘em a plate!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course, honey.” Billy walked to the front of the truck and pulled up the hood. Inside, there were a few foiled objects sitting above the engine. From his pocket, Billy practically summoned a pair of tongs and picked up one of them, setting it on a paper plate Shelby had grabbed from the back and opening up the foil to reveal a piece of smoking meat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby handed it to George who looked absolutely astounded as he stared at the plate. Never in his life had he thought he’d ever witness a situation like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She chuckled, slapping his arms lightly and explaining, “Oh, we’ve been cooking on the road. Y'all know what they say about efficient schedules.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” George muttered, sending Dream a hesitant look. Dream shrugged and politely took the next plate Shelby handed to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So what are you nice boys doin’ in Nashville?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re on a road trip,” Dream answered after chewing on a piece of his barbecue, offering a courteous smile. George found himself poking the meat before following Dream’s example. The meat was surprisingly juicy yet crispy and with a savory taste that melted in his tongue like butter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That sounds fun.” She served herself a plate and elbowed her husband. “Billy and I just love travelin’! Where are ya boys headed?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“North.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, well, y’all better be careful. The situation’s gettin’ heated up there. Would hate for you to get hurt,” Billy offered, setting down his hood and leaning on it as he ate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George shuffled his feet uncomfortably, awkwardly unlocking his gaze and looking around. It seems like wherever he went, the conversation about the EM movement was inevitable. Although it made sense considering it was such a heated issue, it made it a lot harder to ignore compared to being cooped up on the island and turning a blind eye. It had admittedly made him feel ashamed of himself, but if it meant pretending the world wasn’t a shit hole for people like him, he didn’t care. Or at least, he hadn’t cared before. Now, witnessing the events first hand, he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to pretend everything was fine again. Not when the boy’s panicked face at the cruise ship flashed in his mind every time he thought about it. Not when he recalled the sensation of an aura fading into emptiness back at the diner. Not when he saw the girl’s unconscious face every time he stood in front of a mirror and closed his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Our daughter lives in Oregon.” Shelby’s voice snapped him back to reality. She exhaled lightly, a tense smile on display. “She’s a lawyer and a big supporter of the Empower movement. We really admire her views but,” she glanced at her husband unsurely, “We worry about her well-being sometimes, especially with how violent things have gotten recently.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s unfortunate,” was the only comment Dream offered, sounding just as uncomfortable about the topic as George felt. George bit into his food, trying to chew on the meat as quickly as he could to get out of the situation sooner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But beside that.” She smiled wide again and looked in between them. “Are you two related?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re old friends.” George pursed his lips at the sound of Dream’s strained tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Really?” Billy’s crooked, yellow teeth were on display as he asked, “How long have you two known each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream seemed to hesitate, probably unsure of whether he was giving too much information, and when he didn’t answer, George did it for him. “Nine years.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby’s eyebrows rose high and her smile widened. “Would you look at that. How sweet.” Her eyes glistened with a sweet memory in the light of the sun, and her beam only seemed brighter. “My Billy and I were also childhood friends. We went through everythin’ together, from growin’ up to well, adoptin’ a chicken family it seems like, didn’t we, Billy?” She turned to her husband with an affectionate gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Course we did. I still remember when you exploded on me after I bought Pattie Hawkins her Homecoming mum.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Damn Pattie was always flirtin’ with ya.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Billy laughed, nodding his head softly. “Ya couldn’t even admit you were into me. Ya refused to talk to me for almost a week until I almost got run over by that semi.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shelby slapped his shoulder lightly, cackling as she looked back at them. George awkwardly lowered his empty plate. “Treasure what you have boys. Ya never know when it might be taken from y’all.” She wrapped her arms around her husband’s big belly, burying her head in the crook of his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words left his gut wrenched, and George avoided Dream’s gaze as he set the plate on the hood, flashing Shelby a polite smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We will,” Dream assured her, stacking his plate above George’s. “Thanks for the food. It was delicious. We really have to get going though…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t let us stop ya.” Billy gestured toward the sidewalk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you so much for the help,” Shelby said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream nodded with a smile and headed forward alongside George, turning back a second to wave goodbye after Shelby shouted, “Good luck on y’all’s trip!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked in silence—only focused on the cars cruising by and the groups of people passing next to them. The foot of distance between them was uncomfortably tense, magnetizing even. A part of George was still holding back from talking, especially after Shelby’s words had only stung the wound further. He was terrified that another fight would only tear them further apart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he had promised Sapnap. He had promised they’d talk and work things out. He didn’t want to disappoint him, no matter how badly he wanted to bite his tongue and wait until Dream made the first move.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well that was weird,” he settled for saying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dream agreed, slightly kicking his foot forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we know why the chicken crossed the road now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snorted. “You’re so dumb.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George smiled at the sound of his laughter and his tender voice, hoping it meant Dream was no longer giving him the silent treatment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should be a few minutes from here,” Dream said a few seconds later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George nodded along. “So what did you think about Billy and Shelby?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They were... interesting.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You Americans are all so </span>
  <em>
    <span>interesting,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” he mimicked Dream’s bemused tone with a widening grin. “What the hell is even a mum?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh please,” he replied with a laugh, “Says the British guy while taking a road trip through the South.” Then he shrugged. “I think it’s some Texan tradition or something like that. Ask Sapnap, he’d probably know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“See? You’re all </span>
  <em>
    <span>so weird.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the ones who chug a gallon of tea every day.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George scoffed. “Now you’re just stereotyping.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Dream elbowed his side. “You say that like you don’t stereotype us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you saying Southerners aren’t weird?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of contemplation, Dream laughed half-heartedly. “Fine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was during the second moment of silence that George’s stomach started twisting and he breathed in deeply. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s now or never.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened back at the thrift shop,” he started, waiting to see if Dream would shut him down, but he didn’t. Instead, he remained quietly listening as they walked alongside each other. It gave George enough confidence to continue. “I didn’t mean it—what I said. I was just really frustrated and I felt really guilty and I really shouldn’t have taken it out on you. Not in the way I did and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George slipped his hands in his pockets, rubbing against the cotton lightly while he gathered his thoughts. He waited to see if Dream would say anything, but he seemed to be waiting for George to finish first. “Truth is what I did was wrong. It was selfish and I was only thinking about myself and us and Bad and I didn’t consider what it would mean for the girl.” He lowered his gaze, gulping as he did.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bad would be really disappointed in me, but I just-” He stopped walking, shutting his eyes tightly and biting back tears, his words growing more loaded and rushed. “I panicked and I know it’s no excuse but if we stepped in we would’ve had to use our powers and then they’d be after us and the girl and who knows what would’ve happened after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he opened his eyes, he realized Dream was standing barely a few centimeters from him, regarding him with an unreadable expression. His silence spiked his nerves tenfold, and he shuffled his feet uncomfortably, awaiting a response. He resisted the urge to get inside his head, not that he’d even be able to decipher his hidden thoughts. Dream was good at keeping things from George when he wanted. Too good. It scared him—being so close to the person he cared about most yet also knowing he had the ability to completely hide himself from George. Yet despite that, George still trusted Dream with all his heart. And that was what scared him the most. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The longer Dream took to respond, the bigger George felt the pit of dread expand in his gut. His head thumped with urge, feeling like a bridge on the edge of collapsing. When he heard Dream exhale, he almost lost his breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wrong too,” Dream admitted. “I know it was hard for you to see that girl get taken away. I shouldn’t have used it against you. I know you did what you did because you were afraid. It made me angry too and I was disappointed to see it and I blamed you for it but…” He scratched the back of his neck and glanced away unsurely. “You were right. If I really wanted to do something, I could’ve done it. But I hesitated.” His gaze lowered, and George finally felt Dream share a piece of him, and although it was small, he could feel it—the delicate shame spilling through his aura, a sort of vulnerability that was rare of him to let George see. It set off a special warmth in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t blame yourself, Dream. It wasn’t your fault—what happened. It was wrong that we didn’t do anything, but even if we hadn’t been there, it still would’ve happened.” George stepped forward, his hand hesitantly reaching for his cheek but stopping midway up. Instead, he brought it down, his fingers grazing Dream’s wrist until he took his hand. Their eyes locked. “Don’t blame yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s stare was encapsulating in every way. It was magnetic. Urged him to finally acknowledge this strange energy between them. This present pull that constantly drove George to seek the warmth of his body, the tenderness in his gaze, the igniting spark every time Dream’s fingers grazed his jaw.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d been there for a long time—George knew that. Those passing moments that he’d store away in the back of his head for years to come, convincing himself he’d eventually come to terms with them but knowing full well he would try everything to avoid them. There was this addicting glow in Dream’s aura, the one that Dream often held back, that only spilled through on certain occasions, when they laughed a little too hard or when George buried his head in the crook of his neck. George had always denied it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was only now he realized—that he remembered—the horrifying sensation of falling into the depth of his gold eyes. It was the one George thought he’d successfully pushed back far enough, the one that scared him almost as much as losing control did. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their faces had gotten progressively closer in the few seconds they’d been staring at each other, so close Dream’s breath had tickled his nose and sent little red tremors through his cheeks. In a moment of panic, he drew the emotion back in, pushed it toward the void where it belonged, and he pulled back, hurriedly turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should pick up those snacks and get back to the hotel to rest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not tired though,” Dream protested, grabbing his wrist again and pulling him into him, chest against chest. George refused to get lost in his eyes again, so instead, he found his gaze glued to the street light that had flickered on at one point during their conversation. He felt Dream’s hand graze his jaw again. After a moment, he whispered, “What happened wasn’t your fault either, George. I hope you know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George swallowed. They both knew that was a lie. Dream had been the one to stand up for the girl. Dream had always been the hero—the valiant one who put himself in harm’s way for people. George? He only ever looked out for himself. He only ever brought trouble to those around him. To his parents. To his classmates. To his friends. To the girl at the diner. His powers were the closest he could have to a curse. And George had only ever wanted to get rid of them—to lock them away and pretend they weren’t there. Biting the inside of his mouth, George felt a sudden chill spreading across his shoulders even with Dream’s abnormally warm body leaning in front of him like a heater.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What are you so scared of?</span>
  </em>
  <span> the voice inside his head murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We- Let’s go back,” he stuttered, crunching his eyebrows as his head began to thump unpleasantly. A flash of red crossed his eyesight. He pulled away from Dream’s hold instantly, glanced around frantically and breathed hard and heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he realized there was nothing there, he turned again and noticed Dream scanning him in concern. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He stepped a little closer, his hands reaching for George but hesitating, unsure if he’d been the one to cause his freak out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he managed, leaning toward a nearby parking meter to steady himself and close his eyes. It took him a moment to regain the natural rhythm of his breath. He thought back to the disaster at the cruise, to the girl at the diner, to his nightmares, to the shadow’s presence behind him. Sarah’s words echoed in his head repeatedly, panicked thoughts and concerns all jumbled up inside. He couldn’t lose control. Not here. Not now. Not ever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine,” he repeated, more trying to convince himself than Dream.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t look fine.” Dream held a finger to his chin and raised it. George closed his eyes. “Look at me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George hesitated, but he gave in. Dream’s concern was evident in not only his expression but the waves inundating George and causing his heart to stick to his throat and his tongue to feel heavy in his mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been having nightmares,” he admitted, exhaling with a heavy breath. “I think something’s wrong, Dream. I don’t know what to do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s finger caressed his cheek and he sighed. Pulling him closer, he pushed their foreheads together and held the sides of his head with both hands. “It’ll be okay. It’s probably just stress about the mission. You need to relax.” Dream closed his eyes like he was breathing him in. His aura was soft and soothing, but George’s anxiety was still too high for it to really help.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream placed a finger over his mouth to shush him. George stared at him with widening eyes. An unrecognizable look crossed his expression—one that made George feel like he was melting under his gaze. Dream’s fingers slowly shifted so that his thumb was caressing the top of his bottom lip, making his mouth open barely a millimeter and sparking an electric current throughout George’s whole body. A soft pink tinted Dream’s cheeks, and he offered an unusually timid smile. His finger fell away. “Let’s just run these errands and get back to the hotel. Don’t overthink it. You’ll freak yourself out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George allowed himself to melt in the calming waves embracing him like a warm hug, making his heartbeat slow. He focused solely on Dream’s forehead against his. Fluttering his eyes shut, he faded into the serene landscape of Dream’s emotions. He adored these moments—the ones in which Dream opened his heart and shared this intimate part of himself. Like he was opening a secret only for the two of them, only for George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” George mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anything for you,” Dream whispered back, his breathy words brushing over his nose and lips enticingly. And this time, instead of closing himself off, he let himself float within the recesses of Dream’s mind, even if he didn't quite understand all the fuzzy and warm emotions washing over them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a dangerous game—this dance of warm colors between them. One that risked the near lifetime of memories that bound them together. But George chose to push those thoughts away. If only for this moment.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>It struck him on a Tuesday afternoon when he was seventeen.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was watching the Bios scramble out of the stadium to change after their training before one of their semester assemblies. Worriedly alternating between checking his watch and glancing at the open doors, George impatiently tapped his foot on the concrete as he leaned against a light post.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream was one of the last students to exit the stadium. Unlike the others, he ambled toward George like they had all the time in the world, carrying his backpack on one shoulder and swiping the sweaty hair strands sticking to his forehead aside. He had already changed out of his suit, and he was wearing a white shirt that stuck to his body like a second skin, not leaving much to the imagination.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Dream is hot.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The abrupt thought made his face burn in the light of the sun. His heartbeat quickened a little, and before he could make a fool out of himself by blushing at his friend’s attractive post-workout look or blabbering out something embarrassing, he turned up his nose and grumbled, “Gross,” when Dream stopped in front of him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream snickered and tilted his head in an adorable way. “You’re such an idiot.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s heart skipped a beat, and he looked away. The two fell into step beside each other as they made their way toward the auditorium.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You could’ve at least showered.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Last time we were late to an assembly, Galilea almost ate me alive.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And yet you walk like a snail.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream elbowed him lightly, making George squeak in surprise. “And yet you still waited for me.” He snorted. “Simp.”    </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“If I didn’t, </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>your</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> prefect would corner me to interrogate me about your whereabouts.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, Gali needs to chill out. Last time she caught me sneaking out to your dorm in the middle of the night, I swear, she almost wolfed out right there and tore me to pieces.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George cracked a smile. “I mean, it </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>was</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> a full moon.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream rolled his eyes. “What is this? Dusk or something? Shifters shifting at the full moon and challenging Bio-E’s to win a girl over?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’ve got it wrong. It was Eduardo who won Becca and challenged Caleb.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>come on</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>, don’t tell me you </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>actually</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> read the books?” Dream turned to him, amusement sparkling in his eyes. At his silence, Dream burst into wheezes and had to stop to slap his thigh hysterically, leaning on George’s side. “Oh my God, you did. That’s cringe!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George pouted, face flushed both from the topic and Dream’s proximity. “Everyone was talking about it when the movie came out. I wanted to see what the big deal was.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Was it worth it at least?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not really. The protagonist was a creep, the author knew next to nothing about Bios, and she made shifters look like half-breeds who couldn’t control their ‘primal’ urges. Too horny for my taste.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream cracked into laughter again which forced them to stop outside the classroom building so he could catch his breath. George groaned and finally grabbed his wrist and dragged him toward the building. “We’re going to be late and then Gali will really let go of </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>her</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> primal urges to end us where we stand.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As George reached for the door, Dream took hold of the hand around his wrist and yanked him into him, pressing them together by the door as the sides of his mouth crinkled with laughter. George froze. He stared up at Dream like a deer in the headlights and swallowed. His heartbeat thumped like drums vibrating all across his body, deafening inside his head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why the hell was he reacting like this now?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream had always been this touchy and weird with him, but George had never actually noticed how the perspiration on his neck glowed in the sun. Never noticed the way his laughter felt like pleasant tickles when he pressed their bodies together. Never noticed Dream’s eyes drowning him in pure liquid gold. Never noticed how pleasant the smell of pine was on him. How plushy and soft and inviting Dream’s lips looked from such a close distance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The door burst open next to them and George pushed Dream back. He gaped at Galilea in shock. Dream’s laughter finally died off and he looked as surprised as George.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What are you two still doing out here? Get to your sections before I mark you down for detention again!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They hurried inside, and upon separating to go to their respective class sections, George couldn’t help but steal glances at Dream on the other side of the auditorium as he pondered what exactly had just happened. At one point during the orientation, Dream locked eyes with him and grinned, making his ears go hot again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George didn’t look at him again after that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fruit, posture straight!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Techno, feet stable!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream, stop looking at the benches and focus!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George snorted when Dream stuck out his tongue one last time before turning back to Coach Harris to follow the instructions they were given.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was a nice Friday afternoon, and George had just gotten out of his meditation session and joined Sapnap at the stadium to wait for Dream to finish his training. Mr. Harris was going especially hard on them seeing as New AGE was approaching quickly which meant the first round of the championship against their rival school was right around the corner.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There were a couple of other students scattered around the benches, but mostly, the place was empty as the end of the week was usually busy with parties and events—the latest which was a Halloween Bash at the beach.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George hated parties, and he was glad it was rare for them to attend them, if anything because they preferred to hang out and do their own thing: playing video games, camping out in the forest, or messing around with the rolling staircases at the library.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m just saying, that asshole thinks he’s got big balls and everything but have you </span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>seen</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span> him in gorilla form?” Sapnap cracked up and slapped his leg in hysterics.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George watched Dream as he nailed his cartwheel on the pole on the first try. He chuckled and nodded like he was listening to Sapnap despite being too focused on the way Dream had turned to George in excitement to check if he’d seen him pull off his trick.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you even listening to me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh?” George glanced at Sapnap in surprise. “Oh, yeah, uh…” He thought for a second. “You were talking about, um, gorillas?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap blinked, unimpressed. “Maybe if you weren’t so busy sending kissy faces to Dream, you’d know that I was talking about that dumbass new guy, Jessie, who thinks he’s all that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I was not sending kissy faces to Dream!” George’s cheeks reddened as he recalled the sorta almost-kiss they’d had a few weeks earlier. The one he’d spent so long trying not to overthink and the one that Dream and him had been avoiding the topic of.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Mhm.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I wasn’t!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t understand why y’all don’t just go make out already. You’re so obviously head over heels for each other and it’s disgusting.” Sapnap reached a finger inside his mouth and gagged.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George scoffed. “First of all, I don’t want to make out with Dream. Second of all, even if I did, Dream isn’t into me. And third, you’re the disgusting one.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And you’re too fucking dumb to not see that he practically drools for you everytime you put on one of his hoodies.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, he doesn’t.” George frowned, trying to think back to those times he’d purposefully stolen his favorite hoodie to annoy him. He hadn’t drooled, had he? Then again, George had been so distracted showing off how the hoodie practically drowned him and reached him almost mid-thigh to notice how Dream had reacted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap huffed. “You two are so dense.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“We-</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    <em>I am not</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>!” George pursed his lips and glanced at his lap. “Besides. Even if he did have feelings for me, it’d be impossible for me not to know. Empath, remember?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Idiot, remember?” Sapnap mocked, and George slapped his arm hard. “Ow! Okay, okay. Chill out.” Taking a more serious tone, he cleared his throat and continued. “Look. I’ve known you two for what, almost seven years? I know you guys! You’re both totally in love with each other and you refuse to see it! The day you get married, I swear, you’ll be thanking me for making you realize that.” Sporting a cocky smile, he crossed his arms.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George rolled his eyes, though he looked up with a slight tinge of hope as he considered Sapnap’s observations. Although Sapnap could be an asshole, a moron, an idiot, and all three at once sometimes, he never lied when it came to their friendship, and he offered his opinions in good faith. “Do you really think so?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know so,” Sapnap told him with confidence. “I think you should tell him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George whined, burying his face behind his hands. “That sounds like a terrible idea.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m telling you he’s sooo into you. Just man up and do it! Why don’t you just ask him to talk after training? So y’all can go cuddle or do whatever you do at your little dating tree.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As George attempted to slap Sapnap, the other boy jerked back and opened a flame in his hand, holding a finger up with his other hand to keep George back.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stupid.” George rolled his eyes again and turned away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Once Coach Harris deemed training was over, George and Sapnap made their way down the stadium benches, opting for jumping over the railing instead of going all the way around. Dream was grabbing his stuff from the benches while in conversation with one of the shifter girls in his class.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>As George approached, he couldn’t help the weird feeling edging at his stomach when he noticed how close the girl was standing and how wide Dream’s smile looked as he talked to her. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Sapnap who just shrugged.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yo, Dream!” Sapnap called out.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream finally took his attention off the girl, smiling and waving them over. When they got there, he said, “Hey guys, this is Tala. Tala, these are my best friends George and Sapnap.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tala smiled sheepishly and nodded her head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Good to meet you.” Sapnap flashed her a smile and then turned to Dream. “Ready to head out?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream’s hesitant expression made George’s gut further sink into itself. Scratching the back of his neck and offering an unsure smile, Dream looked between Tala and his friends and said, “Um, I’m going to have to take a raincheck. Tala invited me to the party at the beach but, uh...” He glanced at George, somewhat nervously. “You guys could come too? It sounds like it’ll be fun.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Nobody said anything. George unlocked his gaze from Dream’s and pretended to be paying attention to Mr. Harris as he shouted out some announcements for the coming week to passing students.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap was the one to break the silence, and his comment only made George glance at him in confusion. “I think we’ll pass on that. Parties are just not our thing.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was lying. Sapnap loved parties. If anything, he was always the one to insist they go and Dream was always the one to say no because he knew George hated them.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Somewhat surprised, Dream was about to reply before Tala interrupted them. “We should go… Coach looks like he’s roping unsuspecting students into his mean critiques on their routines, and you know how long he can go on for.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream chuckled awkwardly and glanced in between them before waving goodbye and walking off with Tala, offly close to each other.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George swallowed and rubbed his arm lightly, trying not to accidentally project his disappointment. He already felt embarrassed enough.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You want to go beg Bad to unlock the theater room for us with his PA privileges so we can watch a movie or play video games on the big screen?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George pursed his lips and offered a hesitant smile. “Yeah. Let’s go.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>Sapnap had insisted he go for it, even after the whole Tala incident. Despite George’s endless excuses, Sapnap practically begged for George to tell Dream about his dumb ‘crush.’ Apparently, he was certain that the Tala party date had just been Dream not wanting to let Tala down when she asked him out. George wasn’t so sure about that. However, he’d grown tired of Sapnap continuously bringing the topic up, so he decided he wanted to put an end to it once and for all.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Thus, near the end of their Intermediate EM Biology course before lunch, he scribbled a little message for Dream asking to meet up at their tree because he wanted to talk and sent the folded piece of paper floating under the desks until it landed on Dream’s lap across the room.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream looked confused for a second before he read it and then glanced over his shoulder to send George a smile. He wrote something on it while pretending to be listening to the teacher’s monotone lecture at the front of the classroom and then let it fall on the ground.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George levitated the paper back to him with minimal effort and opened it to read Dream’s chicken scratch writing.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>sound good :) i have something to tell you too</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He snorted and folded the paper, burying it in his pocket and looking up again to pay attention to Dr. Abigail as she answered a student’s question on how shapeshifters didn’t end up naked when they shifted to their human form in their suits.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Fifteen minutes after class, Dream joined George who was sitting at their tree reading his new novel. George shut his book and scooted over to let Dream sit by him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have something to tell you,” they both said at the same time and shared a laugh.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Go ahead,” George said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay, well…” Dream glanced nervously at his clasped hands, and George couldn’t help but raise a curious eyebrow as he felt the unusual soft waves of anxiety rolling off of him. “You remember Tala, right?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s gut twisted, and he almost felt like his heart crawled up his esophagus when he nodded.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So…” Dream cleared his throat and smiled wide when he met George’s eyes. “We’re dating now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His breath almost hitched and his tongue was dry when he repeated, “You’re dating?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah.” Dream nodded, looking pretty excited to share the news with his best friend. George, on the other hand, felt like throwing up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Instantly, Dream’s happy expression fell and he furrowed his eyebrows. “What? You don’t think she’s cool?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, Tala’s great.” George forced a smile. “She’s great.” He glanced away, trying to swallow up the aching heaviness of rejection and keep his eyes from watering. “Really great. I think you guys are perfect for each other.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream was quiet for a second before he asked, slowly and softly, “Are you okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“‘m fine. Just unexpected is all.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream seemed like he was hesitant to find the right words, and he settled for saying, “What is it that you were going to tell me?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-” George choked on his words.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Aw come on, Georgie, we’re best friends. You know you don’t have to be scared to tell me anything,” Dream insisted, giggling softly and pressing closer to him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Best friends—</em>
  </b>
  <em>
    <span>it’s all they were. All they would ever be.</span>
  </em>
  <b>
    
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George swallowed, the words burning in his stomach. He chuckled uncomfortably, slightly leaning away from Dream and playing with a loose root next to him. “Nothing. Just that… I, uh, got a perfect score on my Psychic Eval and Sarah said I might be able to travel to England again next year if I keep it up.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George! That’s amazing!” Dream wrapped his arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a tight embrace, making every muscle in George’s body tense up. Dream seemed to notice pretty quickly, and he let him go. “Sorry, did I hurt you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“No, it’s fine. Just been on edge recently. It’s not your fault.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream’s concerned expression didn’t help the swirl of confusing feelings rushing his head. “What’s wrong? Have you told Sarah?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George snorted and glanced at the ground. “I’ll be fine. I think it’s just me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You sure?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hesitantly, Dream dropped the subject. “Okay. If you say so.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After a few minutes of silence, he asked, “Can we go get lunch before next period starts? I’m gonna pass out by the last period if I don’t eat now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George snorted again, though they both noticed the absent humor in his tone. “Sure.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She broke up with me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was the first thing Dream said when he slumped down on the spot next to George on a Saturday afternoon months after he’d started dating Tala.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It hurt. Not just because Dream’s sadness, regret and rejection were pricking through George’s head and poisoning his thoughts but also because it hurt George to know Tala had really meant that much to him. Would he have felt the same if it was George?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pushed the thought to the back of his head and instead focused on swallowing down his jealousy and comforting Dream. It was funny, really. For how often Dream spent comforting him, George wasn’t nearly as good at it. Sure, he was good at calming him down when he got angry or frustrated, but even though Dream was an open book, he wasn’t one to get sad often. It broke his heart, and George almost wanted to stand up and face Tala, demanding an explanation as to why she had hurt his best friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But he pushed those feelings down too and instead he scooted close to him, gently caressing his blonde locks and pressing Dream’s head onto his shoulder. Dream melted into his hold almost instantly and he turned his head a little to press his nose into George’s neck. George swayed his finger back and forth on his shoulder the same way Dream had done for him every time Sarah let him know he couldn’t go back home yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“She said we weren’t spending enough time together, and she didn’t think I liked her the way she liked me.” Dream’s voice was strangely void of emotion, and it frustrated George to no end. He hated when he shielded his emotions away from him, but he also wasn’t going to demand he cry in front of him or break their mind block and let George melt into the whole of him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Despite wearing his heart on his sleeve, over the years, George had come to realize Dream was rather private with his deepest-held emotions—those which he didn’t understand. He was especially good at blocking them out. And if George knew one thing about his best friend, it was that he craved for control of every aspect of himself. In a way, it wasn’t much different from George.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you?” George found himself asking. He almost regretted it. But Dream didn’t seem upset by the question, and he answered it truthfully.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t know. But I don’t think anything I said would’ve mattered anyway.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They steeped in silence for a passing moment. He let the embrace of the calm Spring breeze comfort their sorrows. Dream wrapped his arms around George’s waist and pulled him closer. George swallowed, the action making his heart beat all the bit faster. He knew Dream would be able to hear it. He always heard when his pulse changed, and sometimes, he even poked fun at him for it. He hoped he wouldn’t think weird of it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Sometimes we’re so convinced something is true that it causes us to misinterpret the people we love the most,” George said, his fingers stopping their motion. The heat of Dream’s skin tickled his fingertips like the sole presence of him was charged with electricity that would ignite George at any moment.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re right,” Dream replied after a second of contemplating the thought.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Their mind block fell, and George felt an overwhelming wave of warmth and fondness enwrap them, so much his breath hitched. It embraced George’s chest like no other emotion had before—squeezed him so tight he thought his lungs would collapse and his heart would stop beating. It was terrifying and ecstatic all at once, and George wished he could burn this moment into his memory to treasure it for the rest of his life. He found himself gripping Dream’s shoulder a little tighter at the motion. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he was glad Dream couldn’t see the single tear that rolled down his cheek and dripped onto his locks.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was addicting, this dangerous sway of emotions playing around them. One wrong move could shatter a decade of accidental touches, unsaid words, and pent-up ardor. And so he railed them back in, forced himself to build their mind block again and press back those forbidden feelings from spilling through. He felt a pang of Dream’s confusion the moment George successfully brought their mind block back up.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After a second, Dream murmured, “I love you.” So quiet George almost thought it was his mind playing a sick trick on him. He swallowed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream was hurt. It wasn’t the time to bring up his silly crush. It wasn’t the time to disturb their dynamic with a confession that Dream would no doubt not reciprocate. Because George knew how openly affectionate Dream was with his friends—how deeply he cared about them. And he was convinced Dream did love him. But it wasn’t in the way George wanted him to love him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re my best friend,” George forced the painful words out. “I love you too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He felt Dream’s emotions fade into nothingness. He frowned, opening his mouth to tell him he didn’t have to hide them from him, but before he could, Dream spoke.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have to get to practice.” Dream’s words held an unfamiliar edge to them, one that hadn’t been there when he’d gotten there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Do you want me to walk with you?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream pulled away, standing up and facing away from him. “It’s fine. I need some time for myself.” Although Dream hadn’t sounded like he wanted to cry a few minutes ago, it certainly sounded like he’d burst into tears now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you okay?” George’s voice was barely a peep, unsure if he’d done something wrong to warrant such a foreign reaction from him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream exhaled. “I’m fine. I’ll see you later.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He left without meeting his gaze, and after watching him disappear behind the dorm building, George realized his face was stained with tears that he couldn’t contain. He wasn’t sure if they were his or Dream’s. But regardless of whose emotions they belonged to, for the rest of the afternoon, he cried.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Are those tears in your eyes? Well, if they are, you should drink some water, I heard it gets you pretty dehydrated. If they aren't, you should take a sip anyway. Actually, just drink the whole bottle. Please? For me? Stay hydrated y'all!</p><p>This barely marks past the halfway point of the full story. We have three chapters to go before the next hiatus and then, well, let's just say things get VERY exciting after that :))</p><p>I love y'all so much. I've had such a hard time these past few weeks due to various reasons, and your comments make getting through things so rewarding at the end of the week! Fridays are literally my favorite days at this point because of y'all &lt;3</p><p>We're almost at 600 kudos and y'all have no idea how much that means to me! Thank you!!! From the beginning, I made it a distant goal to get to 1000 kudos for the first time since I started writing fanfiction, so I'm happy to see that we're steadily heading that way :D</p><p>Con una sonrisa gigante,</p><p>Light &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>  <b>PS: New fic dropping for dnf day week 6 sometime today, so look out for that :))</b></p><p> </p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Denver Meltdown</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As usual, thank Grav for their wonderful help in ensuring the quality of these chapters &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>  <b>*IMPORTANT:<a href="https://pastebin.com/RsTy0BYh"> Potential trigger warning disclaimer </a>*</b></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Missouri was a breeze. George barely remembered any of it, seeing as they opted for eating in the car and driving straight through for ten hours, Dream and Sapnap taking turns at the wheel. He also slept through most of the ride, fading in and out of consciousness, blank visions and old memories scrolling through his mind. Luckily, he didn’t have any nightmares. Though he could still feel the tense presence in the back of his head like someone was constantly at his shoulder, watching. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped at their third run-down motel in the-middle-of-nowhere, Kansas. This one was the smallest by far, with a parking lot of only ten spaces, three of which were taken up by the large dumpster in the back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The desk lady was nice enough, although her smile was too big and rehearsed. It unnerved him, especially with the way she was staring at George like she recognized him. Their single room with two queen-sized beds was decent enough. There was a TV with an antenna and it smelled faintly of artificial lemon air freshener. The bathroom was also the cleanest they’d had, even if small.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap sprawled out on the first bed the second they walked in, opening his arms and legs wide and closing his eyes like he was readying to trace a snow angel into the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You look dumb,” was all George said. Sapnap stuck his tongue out at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream moved to the front of the room and regarded them with a sigh. “Alright, children. We get back on the road first thing tomorrow to get to Denver.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s like a half a day drive,” Sapnap whined.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then we better rest up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Groaning, Sapnap buried his head into a pillow and released a muffled scream into it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy seemed a little calmer. His aura felt less uninviting and more placid. The previous night when Dream and George had gotten to the hotel, they’d walked into the odd sight of Skeppy dead asleep snuggled right beside Sapnap on one of the beds with a movie playing in the background. Sapnap had put a finger over his lips and hushed them before they could make any noise. Dream and George had exchanged looks, but they hadn’t questioned it. All George knew was that Skeppy had woken up in a better mood the next morning, and it was all that mattered to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was boring, to say the least. When George wasn’t enraptured by his novel (which he only had a few pages left of), he was either napping or watching the 24-hour rom-com marathon Sapnap had put on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An hour before the night came, Dream suggested they go watch the sunset to get some air, and having nothing better to do, they all agreed. Thus, there they were—all four lying and sitting on the back of the pick-up watching how the sun fell behind the flat horizon of vegetation extending for hundreds of miles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s shoulder was insistently rubbing against Dream’s, and he found himself swallowing. The closeness wasn’t unfamiliar, but ever since their moment back in Nashville, it was like a flip had suddenly switched back on. Every little graze was charged with a dozen bolts of electricity. Every gaze was packed with so much intensity, he felt it burning through his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have y’all thought about what’ll happen after we save Bad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He contemplated Sapnap’s question. Although he’d definitely thought about all the dangers their mission was posing, about everything that could go wrong, he hadn’t exactly considered what would happen if everything went right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They couldn’t exactly go back to living normally. If Bad was okay (which he didn’t want to think about the alternate possibility), then they’d escape, but they wouldn’t exactly be able to return to AGE and pretend nothing happened. The headmaster would know and so would the man they saw him talking to. Sarah would know. His parents would likely be informed as well. If the news figured out their identities, then the whole country would too. They’d be antagonized for breaking into a government facility. For the trouble they’d caused at the cruise. For everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What would happen then?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sudden nausea enwrapped his stomach as his thoughts slipped into risky territory. He had to close his eyes and breathe, focusing his mind on anything besides the impending doom they were barreling toward. In this case, it was Dream’s soothing aura beside him, the gentle scent of pine etched to his person, and the fuzzy vibrations traveling up his shoulder as he shifted ever-so-slightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We go back to AGE?” was Skeppy’s unsure response.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can we really do that?” George muttered, clasping his hands above his stomach. “They could expel us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a moment of silence, Dream, who’d been stuck in a quiet and pensive state, spoke. “We have no option but to let the public know. Government intervention at AGE is going to cause a scandal, especially after they kidnapped students for some sketchy project. There’s no way this will go badly for us if we make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That is </span>
  <em>
    <span>if </span>
  </em>
  <span>we make it,” George stated on instinct.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy’s reply was unsurprising, but it came out more aggressive than was usual for him. “We will.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we going to let the public know?” Sapnap said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Dream answered honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a second of tense silence, Sapnap spoke again, his tone hesitant and weak. “What happens if we don’t make it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The question had been haunting their shadows all throughout the mission. Nobody but George seemed to want to consider it—their potential failure. Nobody wanted to think about what could happen to Bad, what could happen to them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We won’t give up,” Skeppy responded in an offended tone, as if just the thought of failure meant they were giving up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream exhaled, heavy and loud. “We’ll be smart about it. If at any point I sense we’re in danger, we retreat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But what about-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We retreat,” he repeated, cutting Skeppy off. “There’s no way we’ll be able to save Bad if we get caught or hurt or worse. We’ll find another way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy made a noise like he wanted to say something, but he seemed to decide against it. George sighed, desperately wanting to change the subject. His fingers were beginning to tremble, and inside his head, he felt a whirlpool of energy building. He contained it, breathed in like he did during his meditation classes, like he did before every psych-evaluation he received during the year, like he did every time he felt his abilities slipping. Beside him, Dream turned his head, like he could feel George trying so hard to contain this unprecedented surge of energy circulating his body.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you okay?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was burning up from the inside, aching to release this pent-up power he didn’t realize had been slowly building, so much he felt a single graze would combust him. But he also didn’t want to worry Dream. He just needed a little time and a quieter environment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to go to the bathroom,” he announced as he sat up and hopped out of the truck bed. Dream sent him a questioning stare, and George did his best to offer a reassuring smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He couldn’t pinpoint the moment he rushed into the bathroom, not until he heard the door slam shut behind him. His hands gripped the sides of the sink momentarily, focusing on the dripping of the cheap faucet before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Plip. Plip. Plip.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>A vortex swirled in his stomach and a wave of nausea phased through him. He leaned all his weight on the sink, tried to forget the way his legs turned to jelly. The way the floor felt like it was getting further and further from his feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Squeezing his eyelids tight, he inhaled deeply. Honed all his senses into a single thought. Ignored the way his heart was thumping so hard his ribcage could shatter.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Focus,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he repeated in his head. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Not now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Plip. Plip. Plip.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Something cold and ruthless inside his head was mercilessly banging against his skull. It was getting harder to breathe. He couldn’t tell how much time was passing. Had it been a second? A minute? Power pumped through his veins, energizing every muscle in his body and making it contract, making all the hairs in his arms and legs stand tall like he’d just been electrocuted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He desperately wanted to set it loose. To lose himself in the vortex and feel the euphoric release of pure energy flowing out of him. To let his powers run rampant and embrace them in full.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me out,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it told him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you so afraid of me?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His throat was dry and cracked. It hurt to even swallow.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you so afraid of us?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>His fingertips pricked with needle points, no longer able to feel the cold porcelain sink below. His head felt detached from his body like his limbs were all a part of a puzzle slowly being dismantled.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Why are you so afraid of yourself?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>In the course of a second, he gasped involuntarily, finally opening his eyes. Two white flashes stared back at him, lit up his pale aspect. He tried to recoil in shock, but his soles weren’t touching the ground and when he looked down, he realized he was floating. So was every other small object in the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The palpitations across his body only grew faster as he struggled to catch his breath, struggled to reach down and grip the sink again. His body was slowly moving toward the ceiling, and no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t float back down. The sink was still dripping but it was barely audible, a faint echo in his head like it was miles away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Please stop,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me out,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The knock on the door sounded like a gunshot going off beside his ear, and all his senses hit him like an eighteen-wheeler to the chest. He crashed onto the floor and so did the soap dispenser, towel rack, and shampoo bottles all at once. Trying to regain his balance, he grasped the sink and pulled himself up, looked at his reflection and breathed in relief when he saw his eyes were brown again.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Plip. Plip. Plip.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He finally turned the faucet on and splashed cold water on his face, feeling hazy and drugged and unsure of whether he had just imagined it all. But the toppled-over dispenser on the sink seemed to suggest otherwise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George?” Dream asked outside the door, knocking again. “I heard a crash. Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pressing his back against the door, he took a second to recuperate. As he fixed all the fallen objects in the room, he caught sight of the large crack at the very top of the mirror. He gulped down his apprehension and hoped Dream would miss it or that he’d think it had already been there. He hoped that maybe if he didn’t tell Dream, he’d be able to forget it himself. And maybe then, it wouldn’t happen again. Maybe it was all in his head—it was all just his mind playing tricks on him. He just had to convince himself he was fine, and it’d successfully prevent another freak out. But if he admitted to himself he was slowly edging toward another loss of control, it’d only push him over the edge. And they were too close to their goal for that to happen now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He opened the door and regarded Dream’s concerned gaze blankly. Clearing his throat, he said, “I’m fine. Just needed to clear my thoughts.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream didn’t buy it. He sighed and crossed his arms, staring him down more seriously now. “Tell me what’s going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips. Worrying him would only deter from the mission, and they were too far to back down now. Even if his powers seemed to grow more unstable by the day, there was really nothing they could do besides take it. At this point, George felt like a ticking time bomb, and all he wanted to do was save Bad in time—otherwise… he wasn’t sure what would happen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nothing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since when do we hide things from each other?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George bit the inside of his mouth hard, the comment leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He watched Dream with a stare void of emotion. “You’ve always held back emotions around me. You don’t have the right to say that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream stepped back a little, somewhat surprised—as if he didn’t realize George had taken notice to all those times his emotions went vacant, every time his aura lost its warmth like he was holding back. Like he was hiding something from George. For years, George had pushed it to the back of his head, reassuring himself by saying it was just Dream wanting some privacy, not wanting to ask about it because he didn’t want his best friend to feel uncomfortable. Why couldn’t Dream do the same for him now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sighing, Dream hung his head and his shoulders drooped. That was how George knew he was right in assuming he was hiding something, and even now, Dream didn’t want to admit it. But George wasn’t going to push. This was a problem they could deal with after when everything was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I just want to know that you’re okay.” Dream’s voice sounded fragile. It annoyed George that he almost felt guilty for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George rubbed the side of his arm slowly. He just wanted to get out of the suffocating room. He felt on edge again, and he didn’t want to have another episode in front of Dream. “I am. I’d tell you if I wasn’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At Dream’s intense gaze, George opted for turning away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You’re stronger than you think,</span>
  </em>
  <span> the shadow told him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t see that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be fine,” he said as he made his way to the door, walking out without saying another word. He spent some time breathing in the air outside away from his friends. Sapnap checked on him once, but George did nothing besides nod when he asked him if he was alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At almost midnight, he returned to their room where the lights were all off and everyone was asleep. He slipped under the covers quietly and buried his face into the pillow, hoping his nightmares didn’t haunt him this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t. Almost half an hour after he’d gotten comfortable and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to overtake him, Dream scooted closer—so close his breath tickled George’s neck. Almost cautiously, as if he didn’t want to wake George, Dream slipped his arm over his back, his fingers squeezing his side a little. He sighed comfortably against George’s hair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And shortly after, George lost himself to white dreams.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>The drive to Denver was boring. George finished his book halfway through and had to listen to Sapnap’s crappy taste in music for half the time during his turn on the wheel. They ate in the car again, preferring to stop only for gas to get to Denver as fast as they could.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they arrived, they dropped their stuff at the hotel room they booked earlier and drove to a nearby shopping center where they split off to buy supplies: Sapnap and George to the grocery store and Skeppy and Dream to the dollar store right beside it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better than yesterday. As they roamed the hallways, picking out the cheapest and easiest snacks to eat and throwing them into the basket Sapnap was carrying, George felt at ease.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The store was somewhat calm, low radio music playing in the background and creaky shopping cart wheel sounds coming from several hallways ahead. As they stood in the chip aisle and Sapnap blabbered on about which brands were better (Dream had told them they could only get one bag), George took a look around.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A woman cradling a baby while she screamed at her twin daughters giggling and chasing each other around a shopping cart. An older employee on a high ladder stacking the cookie shelves as he seemingly contemplated his life. A group of teenage girls filming what seemed to be a challenge video at the end of the hallway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman shouted at the little girls as they moved on from the cart to run around the ladder. It rattled slightly and made the employee curse out as he gripped the top shelf to steady himself. Setting her baby in the shopping car, the woman profusely apologized as she took her daughters’ wrists and pulled them back. Behind the cart, the girls were screaming and laughing. The girl holding the camera backed up toward the baby in the shopping cart. She bumped into it but caught herself from falling by clutching one of the shelves. The cart rolled forward and the corner of it hit the shelves, making a few of the salsa bottles on the ledge above the baby shake.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The mother turned her back to the cart and shouted at the twins. One of the girls gripped the side of the cart and made it hit the shelf again. George witnessed as the glass bottle toppled over the ledge straight toward the baby.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It never reached it. It stopped nearly a few centimeters above it, levitating upward and slowly returning to its place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George released the breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding as he prevented the accident from happening right in front of his eyes. Nobody noticed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman finished scolding her daughters and pushed the cart down the aisle, passing right behind them. The girls were still happily filming, and the employee had just climbed down from the ladder and was pushing it toward another area.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As his breathing returned to normal, George turned back to Sapnap. But within a second of doing so, his vision blurred and he felt woozy, had to hold onto a shelf to prevent himself from falling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, George?” Sapnap raised an eyebrow. “Drink something funny?” He snickered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George opened his mouth to respond, but when he blinked, he saw a flash of white take over his vision, and he gasped as distant images rotated through his head, an overwhelming sense of dread hitting him at full force.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The headmaster slamming a stack of files on his desk. His mother’s worried expression as she spoke to him. Sarah beside them directing them a few words—words he couldn’t hear but that he somehow understood.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>We presume they’re somewhere in the country looking for their friend.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>How could you let this happen?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He was on edge before he left. I fear his powers are at risk of-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“George!” His vision returned to normal and he was staring at Sapnap who was shaking his shoulders.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My parents,” he said. His legs failed him, but Sapnap managed to catch him, setting him on the bottom of the shelf to sit for a moment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With concern, Sapnap kneeled beside him. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At AGE. They know. They’re-” He had to stop talking from how dry his mouth was getting and only then did he realize he was panting like he’d just finished a marathon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re not making any sense George. Just breathe and try to calm down.” Sapnap rubbed his shoulders lightly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is he okay?” A woman he hadn’t noticed was standing beside Sapnap, looking down at George with worry. “Do you need me to dial an ambulance?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay, ma’am. There’s no need,” Sapnap told her without taking his eyes off George.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George tried to move Sapnap’s hands and insist he was fine, but he had no strength and his words came out as an incoherent mumble. His vision flashed white again, and the shelves beside them began to tremble, knocking over all the chip bags. The girls taking the video screamed, and the woman jerked back in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap’s mouth was moving but George’s hearing had faded away, replaced by a faint ringing and the distant echo of a ticking clock. His vision was coming through in flashes like he was taking pictures with his eyes. Sapnap’s expression was progressively growing more troubled, and behind him, George could see the girl’s camera pointed at them. The woman was shouting into her phone. The salsa bottles that had been on the shelf a few seconds ago were shattered all over the ground. There were boxes of cookies and chip bags flying around. A tornado was beginning to form. And they were sitting at the eye of it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap was mouthing his name, shaking his shoulders like it’d bring him back, but slowly, the world was growing more distant, and George felt like his body wasn’t his own anymore, like something was pushing him away from reality. He could see his arms moving, pushing Sapnap back who only stared at him in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>An impending doom rose in his chest, and he tried to pull his own body back, but it wasn’t working. The fear in Sapnap’s eyes was what broke him, what made him shut his eyes tight and fight this strange energy attempting to take over. When he opened them again, his vision was white.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Stop it,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he told himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Get out of my head.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The energy refused to back down. The only emotion clouding his mind was pure, unadulterated fear. Of his parents finding out he’d escaped. Of AGE deciding on the consequences of their actions. Of where Bad could be and what they could be doing to him. Of the world as it spun around him.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Stop it!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>And then everything went black.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>He awoke to the sound of distant, muffled voices, slowly coming into focus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think he had another attack back in Kansas. The bathroom mirror was cracked and I could tell he was hiding something. He’s been really closed off these past few days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long do you think it’s been going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Since we got to Florida. He was acting off. That first morning at my parent’s house, I woke up because something felt wrong and when I knocked on his door, he practically looked dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I remember. I think he’s been having nightmares, but he hasn’t told me what they’re about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m worried about him, Sap.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A pause.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That night you fought, he told me he was scared of hurting us. I told him he wasn’t capable of it because he loves us too much… But what happened at the market…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t George.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, he regained his sense of touch, and he could feel the pillowy comforter below him. Beside him, he felt the bed dip and the rough texture of familiar fingers grazed his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s voice was closer this time, despite being barely above a whisper. “This is why I was so hesitant to do this… What if we made the wrong decision?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Sapnap a second to respond. “There’s no choice but going forward. We can’t turn back time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know but… What happens if his powers get worse? What are we going to do? If something happens and we get caught and George gets taken away because he’s an adult and not even a citizen and he’s a Psychic above all that, I’d-” His voice cracked. “I’d never forgive myself for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard footsteps and the covers by his feet sunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s not worry about that now, Dream. You’ll give off bad energy, and it’ll just make things worse for him. The quicker we get this mission over with, the better it’ll turn out for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream sighed. “You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Slowly, George blinked his eyes open, first noticing the side of Dream’s face, the way his fingers were resting above the hand that he was starting to regain sensation in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dream noticed his eyes were open, his face brightened, and he exclaimed, “George! You’re awake!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George attempted to sit up, but his arms failed to properly support him, and he ended up sinking further into the sheets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, hey, hey,” Dream scooted closer, the tenderness in his voice making George’s chest warm. “Be careful. I don’t want you to pass out on me again.” Leaning forward, Dream pressed his hands around his waist and helped him sit against the plush bed frame. His chuckle reverberated on his body before he pulled back. George’s mouth dried up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll go get you some water from the car,” Sapnap replied with a knowing smile before heading out of the room, leaving them alone with the quiet rumble of the air conditioner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was smiling at him. The fondness drowning his aura caused George’s chest to tickle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You have a dumb smile,” was the first thing George said. His voice was hoarse and weak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s tea kettle wheezes brightened up the atmosphere, and George managed a smile. Dream’s beam only grew wider as he regained his breath and watched him, the familiar eye twinkle that always left George weak-kneed present.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Like I just got hit by a bus.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaking his head, Dream chuckled again. “You almost gave me a heart attack when Sapnap walked out of the store carrying your unconscious body. I thought someone had hurt you.” </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It did.</span>
  </em>
  <span> George barely contained the words, and instead offered a weak shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened back there?” Dream finally asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sighed, realizing there was no way he could ignore the topic now. “I don’t know. I think I lost control of my powers and…” He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to remember exactly what happened but finding his memory of the event was fuzzy. “I think I saw visions.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream was staring at him, deep in thought. He thought he was going to ask him about them, but instead, he said, “Sapnap said your telekinesis went haywire and that your eyes were flashing white. He said you were speaking gibberish and that it lasted like a minute before you just passed out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It felt much longer than that,” he muttered, his hand finding comfort in rubbing the gem hanging from his neck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It went quiet, a tense and charged silence that bothered George. It felt like Dream had a lot to say, but he was holding back for him. He appreciated the effort. He wasn’t quite sure he could handle knowing all the details or recounting the whole experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I had something similar back at the motel,” he found himself saying instead. He didn’t know why he said it. Maybe he was tired of the secrets weighing them both down—this unyielding force keeping them at a distance even when they lied against each other at night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you tell me?” His tone wasn’t angry but instead disappointed. It hurt George to hear it coming from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was still trying to figure it out myself,” George quietly admitted, lowering his gaze. “I didn’t want to be a distraction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream stared at him, his fingers brushing his chin and raising it slowly. His finger drew light circles at the side of his jaw, and he leaned closer, his voice barely a murmur. It sent chills down his neck. “I was worried about you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stared at him, frozen to his spot, only watching him lean closer and closer. His breath grazed his skin and it felt like fire. Everything within George was telling him to pull back. That his mind was playing tricks on him. That Dream couldn’t possibly mean it in any way that wasn’t platonic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” he whispered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s eyes traced down to his lips and Dream’s did the same. He could almost hear the silent plea behind his gaze.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then someone burst through the door, causing them to jerk away from each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy?” Dream asked with a mix of surprise and irritation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap followed behind him after shutting the door, exclaiming, “I tried to stop him!” as if he knew something would happen between them. It made George’s face feel hot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without an explanation, Skeppy rushed to the control by the television and sat at the foot of the bed, frantically turning it on and searching the channels. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream approached him. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped scrolling the list until he reached a news channel that seemed to be coming back from a commercial break.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“In other news, today afternoon, a video was captured in Denver of a Psychic inexplicably destroying a grocery store. The footage was filmed by a group of teenage girls who happened to be recording nearby.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart dropped when the screen transitioned. It was a video of him and Sapnap at the grocery store. Sapnap’s back was to the camera as he attempted to calm him down. Items from the shelves were being sucked into the swirl of flying objects around them and being released in every direction. The camera shook and moved all over, unfocusing the image as the girls shouted and backed away. By some miracle, their faces were mostly obscured seeing as Sapnap was blocking him and George had his head pointed down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shit,” Sapnap muttered beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Authorities have reason to believe these could be the fugitive EMs who snuck into the country via a cruise that landed in Miami. The Psychic in question was wearing a red hoodie, blue jeans, and had brown hair. His accomplice had a white hoodie, black pants, and black hair. Their identities have not yet been released to the public. If you have any information that could be of use on this national search, please contact the number below.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to get out of here,” Dream replied as he began to gather all their belongings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where are we going to sleep?” said Sapnap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can take turns on the road. It’s too risky to stay here now. Someone’s bound to recognize us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A knock at the door caused everyone to freeze. Dread hit him like a freight train as he turned in an instant to look toward it. Swaying his legs over the side, he carefully pulled himself up. Dream dropped the items on his arms and helped George to the restroom that Sapnap had opened so they could hide in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy made his way toward the door, turning to make sure Sapnap and George were out of sight before Dream gave him the go-ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stopped breathing when he heard the door open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good afternoon,” a man spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Officer,” Skeppy simply stated, smooth and charismatically and without a hint of worry in his tone despite his aura indicating otherwise. “What brings you two gentlemen here on this beautiful evening?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have reason to believe two EM fugitives were seen entering this hotel. We’d just like to take a look around if you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you have a warrant?” Dream spoke, more dryly than Skeppy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a second, it was silent. Sapnap shifted beside him, his nervous energy drowning the room. George choked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s a very quick search. You won’t get into any trouble unless you’re hiding something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I understand that, but we won’t let you in unless you have a warrant. I’m sure you understand where we’re coming from.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The officer chuckled, muttering something inaudible to someone else, presumably his partner. A minute went by until the officer spoke again. “Here’s your warrant. Now if you excuse us. We’d like to take a look around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having nothing else to argue, Dream stopped talking. The door creaked open and slow footsteps entered the room. His heart beat faster and faster and he had to cover his mouth to quiet down his harsh breathing. Behind the shower curtains next to him, Sapnap stared at George, silently asking him what they were going to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A set of footsteps grew closer and closer, turning on the bathroom lights before pausing right at the door frame. They continued. George could physically feel the aura of a stranger pressing against his chest the closer he got. And then he stopped. Right in front of the curtain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything stopped.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s breath hitched when he saw a hand sneak around and grab the end of the only barrier concealing them, the breathing of the stranger on the other side of the thin curtain loud and heavy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The curtain flew open, revealing Sapnap and George huddled behind it with a deer-in-the-headlights expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heart beating and adrenaline pumping, George felt an unfamiliar energy wash over him as he locked eyes with the man. At that second, his senses faded away and all he could focus on was the aura circulating the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Confusion, surprise, fear, courage, determination—they funneled into George all at once. And like second nature, something inside him took over, swallowed the emotions and melded them like clay.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man halted, firm and unmoving, his eyes milky and distant like he was stuck in a haze. And as suddenly as he fell into this state of hypnosis, he returned, his eyes gaining saturation and abruptly stepping back and turning away, movements unnatural and robotic. He turned off the lights and stepped out of the room, informing his partner and their friends that they were done here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once the door closed, Sapnap turned to George in utter shock and exclaimed, “What the fuck did you do to him!?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Dream burst through the door, a mix of worry and confusion on his expression.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“George hypnotized the man or something! He saw us but he just sorta went zombie mode for a second and then just left!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The questioning look Dream sent him made him swallow. George could tell he wanted to ask him about it, but he was afraid it’d only be another trigger for him. Truthfully, George wouldn’t have been able to explain it even if he tried. It felt like his powers were taking a life of their own—like they were trying to expel George out of his own body. Just knowing they could now act on pure instinct without George even thinking about it terrified him. It made him feel like a naive little boy again trapped inside a stranger’s body.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We should really head out. They could come back at any moment,” Skeppy suggested as he glimpsed inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Taking a deep breath, Dream sent George one last look before turning around and helping Skeppy gather all their stuff. With apprehension, George exchanged one last look with Sapnap before hurrying out of the room. His hands trembled the whole way to the car.</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>His sleep was dreamless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He faded in and out of it throughout most of the ride, his mind awake but his body immobilized. He blinked his eyes open every so often—took in his surroundings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream in the driver’s seat lost in thought, his hands clutching the steering wheel as if he would tear it off at any moment. Sapnap’s tight lips and furrowed eyebrows reflected on the side-view mirror by the passenger seat. The starry black sky out the window swallowing the moon whole and the wheat fields drowning the earth offering no signs of civilization.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He blinked and suddenly the sky was awake and this time, it was Dream in the passenger seat, looking out with an unrecognizable aura about him. It made George want to reach out his hand and caress his cheek, offering a comforting touch that was rare of him. Except he couldn’t move his arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hearing himself sigh drowsily, he blinked his eyes closed again, darkness overtaking his vision, the cold murmur of a distant voice calling for him. And a grandfather clock. Echoing. Counting down the seconds. One. By. One.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“George?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He awoke to Dream’s murmur tickling in his ear. The first thing he noticed when he blinked his eyes open was Dream’s face standing so close to him, his sun-kissed skin shining in the light of day and his plush, pink bottom lip glinting with white tiny twinkles like he’d just wet it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, sleeping beauty.” He showed him that stupid grin that George just wanted to slap off his face. If only he had the strength in his still half-sleep arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Idiot.” His voice cracked, and the unpleasant taste on his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Gaining strength on his muscles, he managed to push himself up on the leather seat. “How long did I sleep?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Almost a day. We’re in Wyoming.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“A day?” He furrowed his eyebrows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You looked really tired. We didn’t want to wake you, but I figured you needed to eat something. You didn’t have dinner yesterday or breakfast this morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George finally took a look at his surroundings, spotting the small, modern diner they were parked in front of. There were a few establishments scattered around the streets, but mostly, it was solely grasslands spanning for miles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Skeppy and Sapnap went to get us a table.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Should we really be in public right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s smile grew, and he pulled out a beanie from his hoodie pocket. “Put this on and take off the hoodie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At least take me out to dinner first,” George muttered as he grabbed the bottom of his hoodie and pulled it off. He felt his shirt ride up below it, and he quickly pulled it down, feeling a little flustered with Dream’s stare despite having already seen each other shirtless plenty of times in their years of knowing each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe not dinner, but what about lunch? I’ll even pay.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George huffed, rolling his eyes and getting off the truck. He slipped on the beanie and nodded toward the building.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a small and cozy diner, fairly empty and calm. There were only two waitresses on service, one who was taking the order of an old couple in the back. Two men were sitting at the bar drinking and watching a rerun of an American football match.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sapnap and Skeppy were sitting in a booth nearby. Dream slid in next to Sapnap while George sat by Skeppy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s on the menu? I’m starving,” Dream stated while rubbing his palms together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, you eat like a pig,” Sapnap muttered as he slid the menu across the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising both eyebrows and offering a crooked smirk, he took the menu and opened it. “At least I have an excuse for it. What’s yours?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>One of the waitresses, a pretty and short brunette with a kind smile, approached their table. “Hello! Welcome to Graham’s. My name’s Alice and I’ll be serving you today. Are you ready to order?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They ordered water accompanied by the cheaper meals on the menu seeing as they were running low on money. Closing her notepad, Alice remained beside the table for a second watching George. “You look really familiar. Have we met before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart nearly stopped and he exchanged a panicked look with Dream before glancing at her again. “Um, I don’t believe so.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Raising both eyebrows, she tilted her head and smiled. “Oh you’re British? What a cute accent.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be right out with your orders soon.” She flashed George one last smile before walking off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well look at that, our little Georgie’s got game.” Sapnap blew out a low whistle as he leaned back on his spot and grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dude, she was totally flirting with you,” Skeppy added with a snort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No she wasn’t,” George murmured, feeling his face get a little warm.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She definitely was,” Dream said, clearing his throat right after. Admittedly, George found it amusing the way he was avoiding looking straight at him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before he could say anything, Alice returned with their drinks, placing them all in front of them and then smiling at George once more before walking off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At the sight of Sapnap wiggling his eyebrows, George scoffed and took a sip of his water. “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, Alice brought them their food, and George purposefully avoided eye contact, choosing instead to stare at Dream from across the table who snickered and sent him a teasing wink. George huffed and started digging into his pancakes, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. He took a look around the room as Sapnap and Dream launched into an argument about whether waffles or pancakes were superior.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The men who’d been sitting at the bar were gone now, leaving only the bartender who was swiping down the counter. As he finished up, he grabbed the remote and changed the channel, leaving it on a popular live talk show called</span>
  <em>
    <span> Tim &amp; Tina Talks </span>
  </em>
  <span>with a man and a woman sitting on a modern living-room set. He turned up the volume, and George’s heart dropped when he caught on to their discussion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“- if there is a possibility that these fugitives are terrorists, the government isn’t taking this situation as seriously as it should be. This is a matter of national security. We already deal with vigilante EM groups every day like the Bergman Defenders who target companies they disagree with and destroy city property meant for helping its residents. All for what? To make a statement about the lack of protective EM legislation? To companies who don’t have the power to change this? They’re just making everything worse for innocent EMs.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tim, I think you’re misunderstanding the reasoning behind Empower activist groups. They’re-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the Bergman Defenders do isn’t activism. It’s terrorism! Empower began as a valiant, peaceful movement set toward protecting EM rights. Using it to describe these sort of organized crime groups is an abomination!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“They’re certainly not going about it the right way, and I don’t agree with their actions. However, the beginning stages of the Empower movement proved to be ineffective. The Bergman Bombing was the turning point that pushed the movement from its pacifist route to more active and illegal acts. The inability for the government to listen to these injustices taking place all over the country, all over the world even, is what pushed these groups into existence. They’re only doing what they believe is the only way to change things.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then what do you say about these EM fugitives? Do you think they’re doing what they think is right too? Breaking into the country through a cruise ship? At this point, we can’t even trust our travel agencies to keep us safe!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What I’m saying is we can’t assume anybody’s motive. These EMs could very well be asylum seekers from a South American country. Some of the witnesses in the cruise say the Psychic in question, the one believed to have been spotted in Denver, saved a child from falling out of the ship. If they were really set on harming people, why would they save a kid?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I don’t know Tina, maybe they have some sort of messed up agenda to gain the love of the public. Young people already have hashtags in support of them circulating social media like they’re some sort of misunderstood group of heroes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on, Tim, the show producer just messaged me here saying they have an important breaking news report. Apparently, the identities of the four stowaways have finally been released. It appears to be four students from one of the most well-known Extramundane institutions in the world. Their names and faces are being shown on screen right now. Looks like, George, the Psychic with them is a British citizen.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s pulse quickened. He suddenly couldn’t breathe as he stared at the school book pictures of them and their names now being displayed on national TV. Beside him, his friends had quieted down and were now intently listening to the report as well and cursing to themselves.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re actually receiving an incoming call from the headmaster of AGE. We’ll put him on right now.” The screen behind them switched from a screensaver into a video call at the headmaster’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jay O’Connor, current headmaster of AGE, is live with us with an official statement about the situation. What do you have to say about this, O’Connor?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hi Tim and Tina. It’s unfortunate these are the circumstances we’re meeting in. It’s true four of our students snuck out of the island a few days ago through undetermined means. We can’t fully disclose all the information, however, we do have here George’s parents who would like to send a message to him wherever him and his classmates may be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His knuckles were white on the table, and he felt Dream’s hand rest above one. He gulped when he watched the camera shift from the headmaster to his parents sitting in his office. There were tear stains on his mother’s cheeks and his father was tensely sitting up straight with a blank stare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mother started talking, in between the tears, voice desperate and cracked and like it would shatter at any given second. “George, if you’re listening, please, honey. They’re giving you a chance to come back with no consequences. Don’t do anything you’ll end up regretting. We love you so much.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His father leaned forward with his eyebrows furrowed and he gripped his mother’s hand on the desk. George’s hand wrapped around the crystal hanging on his neck. “We know you’re struggling, George, and it’s not your fault. You’re only going to hurt yourself and everyone around you if you don’t turn yourself in. We just want to help you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside his clenched fist, George clutched the crystal so tight it dug into his skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s going to be alright, George. You’re strong. We can get through this together.” His eyes turned glassy, and his gaze bore into George through the TV screen. “Please, come back to us.”</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Two chapters left until the next hiatus (it will probably end up being longer than a week because I've been so caught up with school but most likely not as long as the last) and plenty of huge announcements to come so stay tuned! Also I might be taking a few more polls on twitter about the story/update schedule/etc so follow if you want to vote on those :))</p><p>If you haven't yet, <a href="https://twitter.com/cyslmee/status/1379945541405081602?s=20">check out this wonderful fan art based on chapter 10 by @cyslmee on twitter</a>! Literally made my whole week, thank you! :))</p><p>Also, I agree, the song The National - Demons really fits George's internal conflict very well!</p><p>Con mucha emoción,</p><p>Light &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p><p>Chapter notes (per request on twitter)</p><p>- I literally forgot Missouri existed so that's why it's only like a paragraph long, I'm so sorry Missourians D:<br/>- Hm, I wonder how big of a turning point Nashville was for dnf...<br/>- Do y'all think they'll be able to save Bad? And if they do, what will the consequences of it be?<br/>- George can fly??? :O<br/>- "Keeping some very important information about my mental stability to myself" trope check, sorry y'all, it's too relatable not to add<br/>- Cuddling in bed counter: 2 (probably 3 since they did sleep at the hotel in Nashville together so...)<br/>- The grocery bit with the baby in the shopping cart was a little tense, huh?<br/>- Not George having an episode in the middle of a grocery store while people are watching...<br/>- Also, George can see the future/flashes of the present??? :O<br/>- Kiss being interrupted trope, check, I did say this was a slow burn, did I not? aha :))<br/>- So George can hypnotize people now... hm, I don't remember that being a common Psychic ability...<br/>- So this grandfather clock, huh? Must be very important if it's so reoccurring<br/>- Wow, we're in Wyoming already? Two states away from Seattle... I wonder what's going to happen next<br/>- Damn it Tim, stop cutting Tina off smh<br/>- What do y'all think about their little political talk show? Any interesting observations? :))<br/>- Oh no...<br/>- Welp, George's parents are back. The situation sure looks messy... I wonder what they're going to do now that the whole country knows who they are...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Campout in Idaho</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Weekly thanks to Grav for their help &lt;3</p><p> </p><p>  <b>*IMPORTANT:<a href="https://pastebin.com/qs9BmGMj"> Potential trigger warning disclaimer</a>*</b>, might include <b>spoilers</b> for the ending of this chapter</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We need to go.” Dream’s hand gripping his shoulder shook him out of his haze. He looked up with tears brimming at the corners of his eyes and realized Dream was staring behind him. When he turned, he saw Alice talking to another one of the workers and pointing at them as she spoke on the phone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rushed out of the diner and huddled into the truck. Dream hit the gas and drove off at full speed. As George looked behind them, he spotted two of the workers running out of the diner. One tried to snap a picture of the truck as it drove away, but Skeppy reached out of the moving window and sent a gust of wind flying their way that caused their phone to go flying into the road and crash down at full force. When George spotted the camera’s blinking where their truck had been, he used his telekinesis to crumble it, rendering the footage useless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They drove for hours. It surprised George how long Dream could go driving in silence without a break. Nobody said anything as if even releasing the quietest peep would give away their location.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Deciding it was too risky to make any other stops or stay at any hotels now that their names and faces were all over the news, they decided to camp out at a secluded area on the outskirts of a national park in Idaho. They parked the truck about a mile out behind a small hill that wasn’t visible from the main road.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although they didn’t have many camping supplies, they did have plenty of blankets stored in the back, so they decided they would sleep in the truck. Sapnap set up a little fire by the forest so they could sit around it on some fallen logs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was quiet. They hadn’t spoken much the whole ride besides basic instructions. When they finally sat down around the fire, George could hardly take the tense silence enclosing them. Everyone was on edge. It felt like at any second, they’d hear a helicopter approaching them and they’d have a dozen officers on their tail. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t help the chill of his shadow pursuer had returned at full force, settling beside his ear with hushed murmurs asking him to unleash his power and test out his full potential—that he could fix this whole mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George refused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we supposed to do now?” Sapnap finally asked the obvious question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We can’t turn back,” Skeppy murmured, playing around with two twigs and a beetle scrambling around on the dirt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not.” Dream plopped himself next to George after he finished heating up a sausage from a bag they’d bought back in Nashville and stored in their cooler. “We’re one ride away from Seattle. It’s just a matter of disguising ourselves until we find where they’re keeping Bad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are we going to do that?” George muttered, knowing full well they hadn’t planned on how they would find the place Bad was being kept at. At this point, it felt like they’d be endlessly running around like chickens with their heads cut off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have a map of the old facility. Maybe we ask around?” Sapnap suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s too risky now. They’ll recognize us.” Dream shook his head. His eyes landed on George, and he could tell Dream wanted to say something but he seemed to think better of it. He turned away, and George restrained himself from asking about it. “We’ll do some research. Maybe look through some local libraries to see if we can find anything. Let’s just… take a breather right now.” He said as he poked the fire with a stick. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The flames crackled in the forest ambient, masking the insect chirps and whistles of the wind. Dull oranges and vivid yellows danced to the breeze, rising and falling, crunching and fizzing, slowly brightening their surroundings as the evening reds cloaked around them. Despite the heat emanating from the blazes, George couldn’t help but hug himself, breathing out in between his dry lips and shivering when his own cold fingertips grazed his frigid skin. A lone owl hooted in the distance followed by a distant howling hundreds of miles away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George’s vision fixated solely on the fire, focusing on the way the flames engulfed the twigs and logs they’d gathered up from the surrounding area. Smoke and embers rose high, sparkled and died as they reached the treetops. He blinked once and the image of the forest fire vanished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he saw red. Red everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A blank room covered in it, puddles on the floor and stains on the walls. Footprints and handprints dispersed throughout.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And a lone boy. His back to him. Kneeling and tucked into a ball with his arms over his head. The sound of an oncoming freight train headed straight for him from every direction, as if at any second, a tornado would ravage his surroundings and yank him into a neverending windstorm of ashes and torment and destruction.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Let me out,</span>
  </em>
  <span> a shadow whispered in his ear. He didn’t want to turn around, too afraid of what he’d see. And when he opened his eyes again, the sound broke with a snap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He was back in the forest, staring at the fire again. If he concentrated hard enough, he could almost hear a rhythmic ticking masked behind the wailing inferno in the flames.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tick. Crack. Tock. Snap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tick. Crack. Tock. Snap.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Tick-</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“- at the creek we saw on the way here before it gets darker,” Dream voice came into focus. He stood up, turning to George with a smile. Sapnap and Skeppy were already walking off. “Coming?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where?” George furrowed his eyebrows after he woke from his hazy state.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re going for a swim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Dream offered his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stared at it questioningly before he took it. His warm grip felt safe. George didn’t want to let go once they started walking, and so he didn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How are you holding up?” Dream asked on the way there, closing the distance between their sides. Their clasped hands swung playfully in between.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George pursed his lips. “I’ll make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they finally reached the creek, Sapnap and Skeppy were already down to their underwear and jumping into the water. Skeppy used the wind to surf around in small wind vortexes above the water as Sapnap aimed fire balls at him, laughing and shouting out curses like they were just little kids having fun.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream had already shredded his clothes and thrown them over a branch by the time George turned to look at him. George kept his eyes above his shoulders despite having admired the sight of Dream like this more times than he’d care to admit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You coming?” Dream gestured toward the water and stood above a little hill ready to jump in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s cold,” George muttered, standing awkwardly to the side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream snorted and turned away from the ledge to face George. He approached him slowly with threatening hands. “Don’t be a baby!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George stepped back and raised a warning finger, frowning and saying, “If you throw me in I will literally kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh come on! Do you think that little of me?” Dream sent him a coy side-smirk and raised both arms in surrender. Then, he took another step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream, I’m serious. Don’t you dare take another step,” George warned, though he couldn’t help the small smile taking over his expression. Dream’s aura was playful and full of mischief. It made George’s heart flutter and feel like he was back at AGE, messing around after classes and playing hide and seek in the library or manhunt in the forest just as the sun was beginning to set.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not going to do-” He striked, reached George in the time it took him to blink once and threw him over his shoulder effortlessly. George lost his breath and a cackle escaped him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dream! Let me go!” He slapped Dream’s back in between his laughter and swung his legs back and forth in an attempt to get him to release him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Dream did. Though a second later, all George heard was a huge splash and the pressure of the water filling his ears and muffling his hearing as he was met with the full force of a body of water to the face. He resurfaced, gasping out and blinking his eyes open a couple of times. Before he could curse him out, another splash burst next to him. Sapnap’s and Skeppy’s dumb laughing didn’t help his annoyance, and he sent a full splatter of water to Sapnap’s face to which he responded to with a small fire ball that he barely dodged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hand underwater pulled him back in, and he kicked it away with a screech. Dream resurfaced next to him, water dripping from the strands of hair stuck to his forehead and sliding over his toothed grin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why would you do that!? I’m all wet now!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what she said!” Sapnap called from behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, shut up!” George sent another splash his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream ducked his head in the water again without responding, and George shrieked, swimming away in an attempt to escape him. He felt Dream graze his legs underwater and he let out another scream. Skeppy laughed and shouted that he sounded like a little girl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They spent the rest of the evening like that—swimming and laughing and splashing and dodging until the stars came out. George hadn’t giggled that loud since they’d left the island, and they all exited the lake with a big grin and arguing about who’d won their swimming race, scaring all the critters away. They disqualified Dream due to unfair advantages and the blond only stuck out his tongue, claiming he was the clear winner.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George was practically freezing the whole way back to their little campsite seeing as Dream had thrown him in with all his clothes on. He whined for most of the walk until Dream rolled his eyes and finally gave in to taking off his hoodie and letting George put it on after he’d shed off his wet clothing. George hadn’t asked, but he couldn’t say he minded, especially with the way Dream’s scent was practically branded into the cotton. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy gave some offhand comment about George looking like Dream’s girlfriend and George cracked a medium-sized branch above him that he barely managed to avoid with a gust of wind. That shut him right up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The fire was gone by the time they arrived, and they put on a fresh set of clothing (though George chose to keep Dream’s hoodie on after he claimed it wasn't wet). Then they all settled themselves in the truck to sleep. Sapnap claimed the shotgun seat which he reclined all the way back and Dream protested against lying on the driver’s one because he was too big to sleep comfortably near the steering wheel. Skeppy exchanged one glance with George and then Dream and then promptly decided he’d take that seat instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream and George slept in the hood of the truck nestled inside a bunch of blankets. Dream’s abnormally high body heat was also enough to keep them both warm as the temperature dropped. They fell into an embrace under the stars fairly easily and without a second thought, as if they’d done it all their lives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George couldn’t help but melt into his arms and bury his head into his chest, lying an arm lazily over his waist. When he heard Dream chuckle at the action, he muttered, “It’s cold,” as an excuse. He heard Dream hum softly in agreement. And even though they both knew that wasn’t the reason, neither dared to admit it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pretended his heart didn’t skip a beat when he felt Dream bury his nose into his hair and inhale a deep breath, gripping his body tighter and hooking a leg over his to completely shield him. It was only when they spent nights like these—their limbs and auras interlaced—that George truly took notice of how big Dream was in comparison to him. And despite Dream having endlessly teased him about his “shortness” (George wasn’t short, Dream was just freakishly tall, he’d always said), neither had ever confessed how much they liked it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George dozed off to Dream’s fast-beating heart and his soft breaths on the top of his head with a smile and an incomparable softness inside his chest. And it was only then when he finally admitted to himself how badly he’d fallen. </span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t that he hated dances.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It was more like the amount of people concentrated in one place had always been a stressor for him. He’d been able to deal with it in the past, but after his empathy came around, it got progressively harder to hang around in loud, crowded places with all kinds of potent auras intermingling and making his mind feel woozy and out of focus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And so, George was not looking forward to the Luna Azul Ball, especially as their archery instructor, a Bio-S prefect from Year 12, interrupted the end of class to give them a last run through of the event and set some guidelines for their dress code. Although he desperately tried not to let it bother him, he couldn’t help the spark of jealousy seething in his stomach as he watched the third girl of the day approach Dream to no doubt ask him if he had a date yet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Bad took one look at him and Dream and then proceeded to offer George a gentle smile and a pat in the back. “Don’t worry. He won’t accept.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s jaw clenched, and he looked to the side. “How do you know?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Because your birthday falls on the day of. He wouldn’t pay attention to anyone but you during the dance, silly.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Slipping his arrows into the quiver and setting it on the rack, he took a while to answer. “I don’t even think I’m gonna go.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George! Luna Azul only happens every few years. You can’t just miss it!” Bad trailed behind George as he went to pick up his stuff in the gazebo, passing by a couple of Geos in the party-planning committee who were blooming Love-in-a-Mist and other flowers and arranging them into decorations for the event.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George gripped his backpack and swung it over his shoulder, staring at Bad blankly. He clicked his tongue and pretended to think about it. “It’s really not that serious.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Watching his friend’s face fall certainly incited a bit of guilt in him, but George couldn’t help but think of all the lovey-dovey couples who’d be grinding on each other or sneaking out into the forest giggling—the air hot and thick with suffocating passion and lust. Or the shady students who’d no doubt sneak in alcohol they snatched from the reserves and curious Bio-E’s hiding behind the stage to “ask for Alex.” Or the hyper energy from all the intermingled thrilled and eager auras that’d fill the beach and give him a headache all night long.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He’d barely managed to get through the Frosted Formal without passing out from all the auras swamping him the first year he’d discovered his empathy, not to mention all the noisy and rowdy events and games during New AGE and Legacy Week every year after that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t want to deal with yet another week-long headache from a stupid dance he wouldn’t even enjoy (especially if Dream did decide to go with Samantha who’d been insistent on wooing him ever since he broke up with his girlfriend the previous semester and George would be forced to watch them flirt with each other the whole night).</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>On his birthday of all days.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George cringed, missing a step as he walked out of the gazebo and almost falling flat on his face if it hadn’t been for the strong yet gentle grip of familiar arms catching him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Woah, you good?” Dream asked as George steadied himself, pushing him away lightly and muttering that he was fine.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream, tell George that he can’t miss Luna Azul this year!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream furrowed his eyebrows, locking eyes with George who quickly glanced away. “You don’t want to go to Luna Azul? Why?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Too many people.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George!” Dream stepped in front of him, suddenly reminding George his best friend had no definition of personal space. “I thought we’d be dates. You know? So we could dance all night long and make kissy faces at each other.” His smile was teasing and crooked and so annoying George almost wanted to punch him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He scoffed instead and walked around him to head to his dorm building. “No. I don’t think so.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Oh come on!” Dream hurriedly caught up to him after waving goodbye to Bad who stayed back to talk to their archery instructor. “Why wouldn’t you want to be my date?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s stomach turned. “The question is who would want to be your date? You’re smelly and hyper and annoying.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream laughed, getting in front of him and walking backward as he replied, “Oh please, I know you’ve seen all the girls asking me out.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George rolled his eyes. “That’s only because you won the championship last year. You didn’t have anyone batting an eye on you before that.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Releasing an exaggerated gasp, Dream raised an offended hand to his heart. “You wound me, Georgie.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He swiftly turned just as they reached the steps to the dorm building and hurriedly opened the door for George, extravagantly bowing and extending his hand for him to walk in. George huffed, stepping inside without thanking him. They passed by one of his prefects, Miranda, in the lobby who waved hello and didn’t bat an eye at the fact Dream was inside the Psychic dorms without a pass or explicit permission. At this point, none of the prefects who knew them scolded them anymore seeing as they’d been handed enough detentions it was practically just another hangout spot for them now.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Heading into the elevator, Dream said, “But seriously. Why don’t you want to go? You don’t even know if you’ll still be here the next time it comes around.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George nibbled on the inside of his mouth and pressed the button to the third floor. “I told you. There’s gonna be too many people. Too much noise. It’s just not worth it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not worth it? What about the DJ? The special guest performance they’ll be having? The light show? The food stands? The rides they’re installing?” Dream listed as they reached his door. “The-”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I get it, Dream. It’s going to be fun, but not for me. Do you know how tiring it’s going to be blocking everyone out?” George told him as he unlocked the door and headed in. He threw his backpack next to his bed and slumped down on his rolling chair. Dream chose to jump onto George’s bed and lay on his side. He gave George the puppy-dog stare he hated because he always got his way with it.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ll help with that! You can just focus on me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You know it’s hard when there’s a crowd around. Especially at a party.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Georgeeeee!” Dream pleaded, his begging face intensifying. George opted to turn his back to him and turn on his computer. “It’s your birthday! You can’t just stay in!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His bedsprings squeaked behind him, and he heard Dream’s footsteps approaching. Without a warning, Dream turned his chair to face him. George was about to groan in irritation, but instead, a quiet gasp escaped him when he realized Dream’s face was barely a breath away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please? It doesn’t have to be long, but we can’t just miss it!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Hearing him talk like they were attached at the hip made his stomach churn. “You don’t have to miss it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I won’t leave you alone for your birthday.” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George bit the inside of his mouth as he stared at Dream whose pleading face was starting to get to him. His eyes glanced at his lips for the briefest moment. Groaning, he turned away to put distance in between them and give him space to breathe.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream whined faintly like a puppy who hadn’t received a treat.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Fine. One hour. But then we leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yes!” Dream exclaimed as he raised both arms in the air.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George just hoped he wouldn’t regret his decision.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The Friday of Luna Azul arrived faster than he would’ve liked. The week flew by with the same routine: waking up, breakfast, getting through the school day, talking to Sarah, calling his parents, hanging out with his friends in the library, eating dinner, and going back to bed, sometimes in different orders. Regardless, the day of, George’s stomach was swirling with nausea, both from his own anxiety and the aura of excited nerves pricking the air in every corner of the school.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Although he’d already decided on a pair of simple slacks and an old button-down buried in the dark crevices of his closet, he made the mistake of telling his mother about it a few days prior, and she instantly disapproved of the outfit, claiming she’d be sending him a proper suit through priority shipping. George had hoped it didn’t arrive in time, but unfortunately, it did.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Surprisingly enough, the outfit wasn’t as bad as he thought it’d be. It was a dark navy suit with a pastel blue vest, white button-down, and some simple dark brown dress shoes. He found a hand-written note inside the garment bag that read ‘Wear with the top button unbuttoned!’ and snorted at his mother’s persistence.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He couldn’t help the spark of confidence that hit him when he glanced at himself in the mirror and realized he looked good. Like actually good.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>After spending a good thirty minutes ruffling his hair until it looked somewhat okay, George headed out of his room after shooting Dream a text that he was on his way to the main entrance of the Psychic dorm where they’d decided to meet.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He shuffled past girls in long, flowy gowns, guys in expensive, luxurious suits, and couples littering the lobby and snapping pictures. When he exited the building, he spotted Dream at the bottom of the steps with his arms crossed and tapping his foot restlessly as he glanced around the campus.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Dream,” he called out, and he had to keep himself from audibly gasping when his friend turned.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>To put it simply—his nickname described his appearance perfectly. Suddenly, George understood why everyone was practically checking him out as they passed (even a few of the couples were ogling). He was in a dark green suit with a white button-up that was unbuttoned at the top and lined down in a ‘V,’ showing off his neck and part of his chest. His hair was slicked and parted back to the side in a relaxed yet formal manner. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“George.” Dream’s crooked smile made his stomach feel like it was doing acrobatics. He swallowed and tried to think of the time he’d seen his grandma in a swimsuit at the beach when he was five years old to diminish the improper thoughts coming to mind. His knees almost failed him when he noticed the way Dream took him in and then locked eyes with him, a spark of playfulness abound. “You look good in a suit.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Thanks, Dream…” he murmured, pursing his lips and feeling his face grow slightly hot.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re welcome.” His smile grew wider as he noticed George’s faint blush. His body completely froze up when he reached the bottom step and Dream instantly pulled him into an unexpected tight and warm embrace. “Happy birthday,” he whispered into his ear like it was a secret, practically setting George on fire.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Think Grandma thoughts. Think Grandma thoughts. Think Grandma thoughts.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George cleared his throat and pulled away when Dream loosened his grasp, glancing away. “Thanks.” His voice was barely there. “Let’s go before I regret this.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They followed the line of students heading toward the beach alongside each other. George grew more and more tense as they approached, the sound of lively music at full volume being heard from half a mile away.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George’s breath hitched when the party finally came into vision behind the palm trees.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>At the entrance, the patch of grass at the edge of the beach with an arc of bushes and palm trees surrounding it was now decorated with hundreds of Love-in-a-Mist's and glowing flower arrangements. The deck beside it had a dance floor set up right in front of the DJ who was already blasting lively music, confetti and smoke into the crowd of teenagers dancing. There were a dozen or so food vendors set up at the beach below along with carnival games and other activities. There was even a small traveling Ferris wheel. The sound of laughter and shouting and music drowned their surroundings as did the scent of sweets and salty foods. Waves of joy and fun also took to the air, hitting George from every direction and making his whole body feel like it was buzzing with electricity. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The main attraction, however, was the breathtaking full moon in the sky—a glistening glow ball raining beams of blue upon them. The picture booth was set up in the perfect position for the moon to be front and center in the pictures the professional photographer was taking of the students walking in.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What did I tell you?” </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George noticed Dream’s coy smile beside him and closed his mouth quickly, scoffing and rolling his eyes. “Let’s just go get our photo. One hour, and then I’ll leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It didn’t end up being an hour.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>In fact, George lost track of time almost instantly after they stepped inside. They met up with Sapnap and some random girl who he’d somehow convinced to be his date and spent some time at the dance floor. At first, George had wanted to stay behind, embarrassed that he didn’t exactly know how to dance. However, through pleading eyes and countless insistence, Dream convinced him he wouldn’t make a fool of himself and that he’d lead him on the dance.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>George tried to dance, but his movements ended up being jaggy and tense. Upon seeing Dream’s laughing smile, he got absurdly red and tried to walk off, but Dream just pulled him back, close enough that he could talk into his ear in the middle of all the ruckus. It only added to the color on his face.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Just let the music guide you. You remember all those times we sneak off to go swimming at the shoreline? You know how sometimes you float on your back and let the waves guide you? Pretend you're there right now.” Dream took his hands and swayed to the beat of the relaxed Caribbean music playing over the speakers. “Pretend it’s the ocean guiding you.” George followed along, loosening his body and letting the rhythm take over.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“There you go!” Dream smiled from ear to ear, and George smiled too, growing more confident with his movements. George found himself getting lost in Dream’s eyes as they danced, the emotions around him fading and only one bright aura shining around him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eventually, Sapnap appeared out of nowhere and took George by the hand, twirling him unexpectedly and laughing hysterically when George yelped, “Sapnap!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The music changed and it was their sign to finally get out the dance floor. They found Skeppy and Bad at the food vendors. Bad was apparently supervising Skeppy as he overloaded his mouth with junk food. They walked through the stands trying foods and even getting on the Ferris wheel at one point and watching the moon. George couldn’t stop smiling the whole time.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It wasn’t until near the end of the night when they were sitting at the benches by the food stands that they heard shouting nearby. Curious, they all headed over to investigate and found a fight had broken out and there was a circle of students around the two offenders—two shifters, one a puma and another a gorilla, who were in their animal form, their garments shredded around them from where they had shifted.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is that Jessie?” Bad asked behind him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yeah, I told y’all he was an asshole,” Sapnap said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>The voices began to blend into the crowd and George found his head growing distraught as his emotions pulled toward the shifters, their anger so prominent it made his body tense. Somebody grabbed his arm, but George was too out of it to properly register it. In his vision, he saw someone breaking through the crowd. The noise dialed down, but everyone’s voices were still muffled. Sarah stepped inside the circle, her mouth opening and closing as she put herself in between the two shifters.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then George blinked and a switch flickered on in his brain. The screaming and the growling and the roaring and everyone’s emotions and jumbled thoughts crashed into him at once. His knees buckled and his body collapsed. Someone leaned down to help steady him while simultaneously shouting into his ear, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He only watched as Sarah turned and locked eyes with him, her angry gaze shifting into concern. She rushed toward him and the corners of his vision grew blurry. He focused only on Sarah's face as she approached like he was looking through a magnifying glass, but when he reached his arms forward to grab her, he found she wasn’t there.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Her mouth was moving, but everyone’s voices and thoughts and emotions were too loud in his head. They were too loud. Too loud and George’s mind felt like it was shattering and pieces of it were colliding against one another.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“George.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He blinked.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>And he awoke to the sun blazing down on him at full capacity. His whole body felt hot, and he sat up, discarding the blanket beside him. Dream awoke almost as instantly as he did, blinking his eyes open and yawning loudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning, already? I was so comfortable.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Comfortable? It’s hot as hell.” George pinched the collar of his shirt away from his neck and breathed out, feeling sticky all over. He really needed a shower.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was literally the best sleep I’ve had in ages.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That's because you like sleeping like an animal outside,” George scoffed. “You might as well be a shifter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream chuckled, sitting up. “It’s in my blood.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George leaned on the side of the truck, taking a second to breathe a little, remnant emotions of his dream still resonating inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You good?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream shuffled closer, watching him with interest. “Yesterday at the grocery store…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George sat slightly straighter. He’d been awaiting the topic since yesterday, but it hadn’t seemed like Dream had wanted to trigger him then. There hadn’t been much time to talk in between the hotel and the drive either. Although he knew they’d talk about it eventually, he didn’t expect it to be the first time in the morning after recalling a bad memory.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sapnap said you mentioned something about AGE during your, um, attack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George tried to recall the moment, but it felt fuzzy in his head as if someone had purposefully blurred out the memory. “I don’t remember much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s okay. Don’t force it.” Dream smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in silence for a moment. Skeppy and Sapnap’s auras were both barely discernible, so George knew they were still asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mean this to sound like I’m babying you. I’m really not. I’m just sort of worried but… You’re going to have to take it a lot easier when we get to Seattle. For the sake of your health and powers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know.” George nodded. “I will. Don’t worry, Dream.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t say that makes me feel any less worried considering what happened yesterday…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George laughed, scooting closer and smiling at him. With a tiny burst of confidence, he found his finger tracing the outline of Dream’s jaw. “I get it, but just trust me that I’ll try my best to control the crazy Psychic inside me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream’s cheeks had a tint of pink, and George’s smile widened. It wasn’t often that their roles switched.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he felt Sapnap stir awake inside the truck, he pulled away, standing up and jumping out. He turned to Dream whose mouth was still slightly agape. “We should probably get on the road soon. Seattle’s waiting for us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream chuckled, shaking his head. “They won’t know what hit them.”</span>
</p>
<h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>
  <span>Seattle was a bigger shithole than the news portrayed it out to be—or at least the area they were driving through was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were EMs openly using their powers everywhere. A flower shop owner growing their roses outside their shop in the open. A wolf cub playing with another kid who was water-bending by an open fire hydrant and shifting back into the form of a little boy. A girl opening a flame in her palm and making a burn barrel in the middle of the street.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Many of the buildings were either horribly worn out or closed off entirely, some overgrown with shrubs and spiky vines. The roads were bumpy and missing chunks in some parts. Light posts were rust, wooden power poles were slanted and on the verge of falling, and hanging traffic lights swung with every gust of wind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stopped at a beat-down gas station on one of the intersections. They did their best to disguise themselves, pulling on their hoods, a discarded beanie in the back seat and using two pairs of shades Dream had stored in the glove compartment. George took one of the pairs considering he was the one that was most wanted and Dream took the other since, by his logic, his hair was more distinct. They turned off the engine and went into the building both to pay and for a much-needed restroom break. Sapnap insisted on taking his sweet time in the toilet, so Dream and George ended up goofing around by one of the hallways and looking through items.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>George instantly gravitated toward a pair of clout goggles. He exchanged them for his shades for a second to ask Dream if they looked good on him. Dream responded with a wheeze and by saying, “You look so stupid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pouting, George slipped them off and put on his other pair of shades again. He stared at them longingly for a moment before slipping them back on the rack. Not only were they incredibly attention-grabbing but they were also fairly expensive for their budget.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Sapnap finally finished taking a shit and Skeppy paid for their gas, they made their way out of the station. As they were walking back to the truck, George saw a couple of teenagers eyeing a woman who was putting gas in her car. One of them laughed and turned to her, raising his hand and causing the purse on her shoulder to fly out of her grasp and onto the concrete. Another really fast one rushed to grab the bag and make a run for it with his friends.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Although George didn’t think bringing attention to themselves was a good idea, he couldn’t help but remember the girl at the diner. When he glanced at Dream, he knew he was thinking the same thing. And so, as Dream dashed toward the guy on the run (who seemed just as fast if not faster than Dream), George found himself levitating the trash can he was about to pass and knocking it toward him, causing him to lose his momentum and trip over it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dream caught up and took the purse from his hand, giving him a few words before walking back to the woman and handing it to her. The teenagers took off running. The woman seemed to thank Dream profusely, and even offered him some cash she took from her purse, but Dream denied it and instead walked back toward them. He flashed George a small smile as they got back into the truck.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Skeppy pulled out of the parking lot, George took notice of a strange aura jumping out at him, and he looked out the window to spot a figure with their hood up standing near where the teenagers had run past and staring at them as they drove away. He tried to tell himself it’d just been a coincidence but he couldn’t help the bad feeling that swept over him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It only built as Skeppy drove down the street. Sapnap turned on the radio to a popular pop song and started singing along at an annoyingly loud level from the front seat. Dream joined him, and soon, they were both screeching their lungs out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“DRIVIN’ THROUGH MY HEART! BREAKIN’ IT APART! I GOT MY FOOT ON THE GAS, I GOT MY EYE ON THE PRIZE, AS WE’RE SLIDING, WE’RE OFF THE ROADS WE’RE DRIVIN! WE’RE DRIVIN’ OFF OUR MINDS!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Skeppy remained in his own little world as he drove. George turned away with a smile and looked out the window, watching the buildings as they passed and only hoping they’d be able to find Bad soon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then it happened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It sounded like a bomb went off in his ears. And then he was hitting the door to his right at full force. And he was flying. And he was upside down and his ears were screeching and in the background, he could still hear the distorted music playing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He remembered feeling the passenger seat in front of him rubbing against his legs. He remembered blinking his eyes open and closed, wondering if he was seeing right because Sapnap’s mop of hair was spiking upwards in the seat in front of him. And then he felt the pressure against his chest and he realized he was hanging too. And when he tried to move, he felt the stabbing pain at his side and he looked down to see a spike of metal had ripped through his shirt and into his skin and there was blood everywhere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Blood. It was fresh on his hands. On his body. His vision blurred as his breathing began to rise and quicken. And he tried to rub it off but it was only making a bigger mess on him. His head was a jumbled mess and he blinked, trying to see if the image would go away, to see if he’d wake up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His vision flashed on and off. His bloody seatbelt and then darkness. The passenger seat and then darkness. The glass spread all over the ceiling of the truck and then darkness. Sarah’s face getting closer and closer.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“George. You need to breathe.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>And then darkness. His heart racing and his lungs aching because he couldn’t inhale right.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Don’t let it control you.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>His side of the car crumbled like a ball of metal. His head was swirling and something was striking against it trying to come out.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>“Breathe.”</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>And then darkness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>But this time, he didn’t open his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This story does NOT include character death, I promise.</p><p>Anyway, next week is the last chapter before we go into hiatus.... Not sure if y'all are ready for it aha </p><p>Also, <a href="https://forms.gle/ATJzdDjAcDwixj7i8">I would greatly appreciate if y'all could fill out this form about update schedules and interest in a future dicussion/Q&amp;A type of event</a>*</p><p>Sinceramente,</p><p>Light &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p><p>Chapter Notes:<br/>- Would it really be a roadtrip if we didn't have a camp out section?<br/>- Ngl, the fire section took me so long to write, hope it gave off the right vibe<br/>- Finally held hands pog? :O<br/>- I figured they really needed a destressor so you're welcome :))<br/>- Dream throwing George into the lake... I can't with them anymore and I'm the one freaking writing them<br/>- Cuddling in bed counter: 4 (istg these two have been in their honeymoon stage for years now)<br/>- George admitting his feelings to himself pog?<br/>- Hm is George not liking parties ooc if we consider his irl "college" life?<br/>- dnf is killing me help why did I make this a slow burn<br/>- Who am I kidding, Dream definitely seranaded George the morning for his birthday but just wanted an excuse to hug him in a suit<br/>- Also unrelated but low key bragging, did y'all know I share birthdays with gnf? Kind of funny lmao<br/>- Credit for Luna Azul Ball goes to my friends during our skype sessions (they literally help me name almost half the things in this universe)<br/>- Okay you caught me, 'Island in the Sun' was stuck in my head rent free while writing dnf dancing and I had to force my friends to rewatch Aquamarine (in Spanish of course) with me because the dancing scene there is iconic, what I would give to have a drawing of dnf dancing like this omg<br/>- Also Sapnap coming in because he wants some affection too :))<br/>- Poor Georgie doesn't get a break (tbf this is in the past)<br/>- They just don't even have a chance to talk, sadly :((<br/>- George flirting back?? Character development??? :O<br/>- Also "They won't know what hit them" lmaoooo oops???<br/>- If y'all don't remember, this story takes place a century into the future, so I'm not trying to say anything about Seattle, it's just the setting in this world ; - ;<br/>- Clout goggles!!!<br/>- George deciding to help a woman with his powers, character development pog?<br/>- Mysterious figure watching our heroes trope, check!<br/>- I'd like to announce that me and my friend spent almost an hour in the middle of the night coming up with the simple verse Dream and Sapnap were singing in the car so pls appreciate it ; - ;<br/>- Car crash blackout trope, check... aha ¯\_(ツ)_/¯</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Seattle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>
  <b><a href="https://pastebin.com/jVZHWNg3">IMPORTANT DISCLAIMER (might include minor spoilers for the end of this chapter)</a>*</b>
</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He awoke to the smell of disinfectant and chemicals. The first thing he wanted to do was to throw up from the disgusting hospital scent. The second thing wanted to do, and what he actually did, was sneeze.</p><p>It woke him right up and when he opened his eyes, the light in the room felt like it was burning through his retinas. The heart monitor beside him was beeping at a constant rate. His chest was sore, and every time he breathed in, it felt uncomfortable. The thin white sheets foiled his body but did nothing to ease the cold. His mouth tasted like liquid metal and medicine. He could feel the string of cold liquid entering through the IV on his wrist and the little pulse contraption that was heavy on his finger.</p><p>Dream was by his side before he could even attempt to say a word. He was wearing a different shirt from the one he’d been wearing earlier, and his hair was a mess and his face was stained with brown marks and a few gashes. He found it weird that they hadn’t yet healed despite being so small considering Dream had the fastest healing ability out of all of them.</p><p>“You’re awake,” Dream said. His voice sounded like he was resubmerging after being underwater for a long time.</p><p>“What happened?” George’s voice was hoarse and barely there when he replied. Dream raised a glass to his throat and let him take a small sip. The water was like ice on his throat and esophagus despite being room temperature.</p><p>“We crashed. Fucking reckless driver T-boned us.”</p><p>Looking over his shoulder, George spotted an unconscious Sapnap in a hospital gown lying on the bed beside him. His face was bruised, his lip was cracked open with a gash, and he was full of scratches. George tried hard to focus on his aura to check if he was okay, but his mind felt fuzzy and disordered and weak and he couldn’t quite feel him.</p><p>“My powers…”</p><p>Dream raised his wrists and showed him the metal cuffs. “Muters.”</p><p>He had enough strength to raise one hand and realize Dream was right. He turned back to Sapnap and frowned when he noticed he was wearing them too. “His powers won’t heal him if he has those on.”</p><p>“I tried telling them, but they said that he’d still heal normally, just slower.” Dream looked off to the side with a glare that could kill. “They don’t want to risk it. They know who we are.”</p><p>They fell into a tense and bitter silence. George had expected they’d be caught by their own fault—that he’d eventually mess up and lose control and the police would catch them. He’d expected maybe even that someone would recognize them. The last thing he would’ve expected for them to be caught by was by getting into a car crash that was out of their control. Despite knowing that everything had gone wrong, that they were completely fucked and they hadn’t even managed to find Bad yet, George had barely any energy to dread the consequences. If anything, he just wanted to close his eyes and slip back into unconsciousness, maybe relieve a memory and pretend nothing was real too.</p><p>“Skeppy’s outside talking to the police. Our parents and the headmaster are on their way.” Dream’s voice was eerily void of emotion. He sounded just as tired as George felt.</p><p>“We failed.”</p><p>Dream rested his hand over George’s, lightly rubbing his knuckle with his thumb. It felt weird—not being able to sense the warmth radiating from his aura. He hadn’t worn power insulators since the day he’d moved to AGE, back when he thought telekinesis would be his biggest struggle. The only thing he did feel was the cold air exiting the ventilator on the wall beside him and the raspy sheets on his skin. George hated feeling so empty.</p><p>“I’m just glad you’re okay,” Dream muttered, smiling lightly.</p><p>When the door opened, his hearing focused on the hospital sounds. Metal cartwheels rolling against the floor. A woman’s muffled voice talking over the intercom. Nurses speaking in hushed voices as they passed by. Cabinets opening and closing and a clipboard slamming on a counter.</p><p>The door shut a few seconds later after Skeppy stepped inside. He slid a chair over and spoke quietly. “What’s the plan?”</p><p>Dream sighed. “There is no plan. Sapnap’s unconscious, George’s hurt, we can’t even use our powers and our parents and the headmaster are on their way.”</p><p>“Bad’s still out there. We can’t just give up now!”</p><p>“What do you expect us to do, Skeppy? We can’t even break out. We’re under 24/7 surveillance and they won’t even let us leave the room without an escort.”</p><p>Skeppy thought it over for a moment before his eyes locked onto him. “George. Can you do your weird power thing that you did back at the hotel? With the man?”</p><p>“I don’t think so. My empathy’s not even working. My brain feels like mush.” He leaned back on his pillow, frowning as he felt a headache building. He hated the way muters made him feel so out-of-touch and on the verge of passing out from a wave of exhaustion.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Skeppy. But we’re going to have to find another way to help Bad. There’s no way we’ll get out of this one.”</p><p>Skeppy groaned, standing up and running both hands through his spiky hair. He was still wearing the same outfit they’d gotten in the wreck with, now slightly torn and stained with dry blood. “I’ll snatch a scanner. They won’t know. That way we can unlock our cuffs and use our powers to break out.”</p><p>“Are you expecting to destroy the hospital to escape? We’re not doing that, Skeppy. End of story.”</p><p>“There’s an emergency staircase right beside our door. We can get out in less than a minute if we hurry. They won’t catch up and we don’t have to make a mess or fight anyone.”</p><p>“Skeppy, stop.” Dream’s voice was growing more frustrated. “We’re not just going to leave Sapnap.”</p><p>“We can’t just give up now!”</p><p>“There’s a difference between giving up and having no options left.”</p><p>“We have an option. We can still do it.” Skeppy glanced at George, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes desperate and glazed over. For once, George was glad he couldn’t make out his emotions otherwise they’d be too much to handle. “We can save Bad.”</p><p>George glanced at Sapnap. Though his eyelids were shut tight, his eyes were still darting around—as if he were stuck deep in his dreamworld living life without realizing he was unconscious on a hospital bed. He appeared so peaceful like this, and George couldn’t imagine him waking up without his friends at his side. Alone.</p><p>“We can’t leave Sapnap.”</p><p>“Nothing’s going to happen to him. The doctors said he’d be okay and his parents will be here soon anyway.”</p><p>George frowned at the mention of them, knowing that on top of waking up without his friends by his side, it’d be more stressful on Sapnap to see his parents. </p><p>Standing up, Dream let out a frustrated groan and stood in front of him. “Skeppy. You realize that they’re already letting us off the hook thanks to AGE. If we do this, there’s no guarantee that we’ll keep our freedom, whether we find Bad or not.”</p><p>Skeppy narrowed his eyes. He took a challenging step closer. “I know that. But Bad is more important to me so I’m willing to take the risk. Are you?”</p><p>They stood in front of each other, neither willing to back down. The longer the silence drew out, the more George just wanted to spring out of bed and step in between them. However, his ribcage still hurt from where the metal shred had punctured his torso and his body was still half-drugged from all the antibiotics they must’ve used on him (even though his powers would’ve taken nothing and healed him well-enough within hours).</p><p>Taking a deep breath, Dream finally turned away in favor of locking eyes with George. He could tell what he was going to say by just the look on his face.</p><p>“I’m not going to leave Sapnap here,” George said, frowning at the fact Dream would even consider abandoning their friend.</p><p>Dream pursed his lips. He looked away momentarily. George’s stomach felt nauseous. “You don’t have to. Skeppy and I are going.”</p><p>“What? No!”</p><p>“You’re not in the best condition to be on the run, George.”</p><p>“My powers will take care of it.”</p><p>Dream settled on the edge of the bed, examining him with a firm look that made George slightly frustrated. “We agreed you’d take it easy.”</p><p>“That was before everything went to shit.”</p><p>“Exactly. You’re more likely to lose control now. We can’t risk it.”</p><p>George watched him through narrowed eyes. “You need me, Dream. More than you think.”</p><p>Dream hesitated, a clear conflicted look in his eyes. “What about Sapnap?”</p><p>He got a twisted feeling in his gut as he glanced over at their unconscious friend. “Skeppy’s right. He’ll be okay, but we can’t say the same for Bad.” He met his eyes again. “Or for you guys.”</p><p>Dream’s frown intensified, but before he could protest, the door opened and George realized that Skeppy had snuck out of the room at one point during their conversation. He slid the scanner out of his hoodie pocket and raised it to his knuckles to unlatch the braces. He did the same for Dream. When he moved on to George, Dream held Skeppy back.</p><p>Without hesitation, George’s tone turned more stern and he stated, “I’m going.”</p><p>Dream didn’t say anything, but he also didn’t stop Skeppy when he went to take off George’s braces. He felt the overpowering sensation of their auras hit him blank in the face when his powers returned, and it took him a second to register his surroundings. When he turned to Sapnap, he finally felt the faded aura as if he were deep asleep. It reassured him all the bit, and he yanked out the IV and slid his feet over the ledge, breathing for a moment before standing up slowly.</p><p>George put on a pair of sweats and a hoodie Dream had in his backpack. As he changed, he watched Dream take the scanner from Skeppy and unlatch Sapnap’s braces. Dream remained beside the bed for a moment with a sad expression, and he raised his fingers to Sapnap’s face, grazing his jaw tenderly. It didn’t help George’s guilt.</p><p>“There’s an officer outside who I stole the scanner off of,” Skeppy said. “Do you think you can do your whole hyponization thing on him?”</p><p>George bit his lip but knowing there was no other way, he hesitantly nodded. After peeping through the window on the door and making sure there was no one else in sight, he closed his eyes to concentrate for a moment before walking out the room first. The man turned almost instantly and his face contorted into pure panic. He reached for his radio, but before he could use it, George put all his focus on the man’s mind, hooking it in and recreating the energy he’d felt back at the hotel.</p><p>Admittedly, it was exhilarating—watching as the man froze up and his eyes glazed over into a zombified state. And for a moment, George considered going through all the way. Drilling into his thoughts and breaking his mind apart like a jigsaw puzzle. He nearly did listen to the murmur in his head, but he came to his senses once he heard the door open behind him.</p><p>Dream and Skeppy snuck out and headed toward the exit door behind him. George backed away slowly, keeping his focus on the man and only releasing his mind once he was right by the door. They walked out before the man could regain consciousness. </p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>The upside about Seattle streets was that wearing your hood up didn’t even categorize you as suspicious. It shocked him that EMs littered the streets left and right, parents, elders, kids, workers, beggars, druggies, George had never witnessed such a diverse group of EMs in public.</p><p>“There should be a shopping complex down the road. When we get new disguises, we can stop by the downtown library to see what we can find on old EM government facilities,” Dream told them as they wandered down a somewhat isolated street, trying to remain as unnoticeable as possible. The echoes of traffic horns and police sirens from miles away resonated through the mostly abandoned block. As they walked, George could only spot a few beggars lying on blankets or benches and sleeping.</p><p>As they neared the corner, their attention was instantly drawn by a group of guys bundled by the entrance of an alley and standing in a circle on the other side of the street. George was going to ignore them, but Dream thought otherwise, and he halted abruptly, making George almost crash into his back.</p><p>He was about to ask why they’d stopped when he heard the conversation from across the street.</p><p>“No harm in hanging out with us for a bit. Drinks are on us. Actually, we’re even going to a party later today at Inferno, why don’t you come with us?”</p><p>“Not interested,” replied a female voice.</p><p>“Aw come on, beautiful, you can’t leave so soon.”</p><p>It took one glance from Dream for George to know exactly what he was about to do. Although Skeppy seemed conflicted about what action to take next, he ultimately followed Dream. Crossing the street, they approached the alley where George could make out the three figures more clearly. Every part of him was telling him to get out of there. That they were walking straight toward trouble, but he knew Dream wouldn’t accept the excuse.</p><p>One of the guys—the middle one who was in the middle of talking—was a bigger dude whose chunky and muscular figure was visible even through his baggy sweatshirt. Beside him, there was a significantly lankier guy who was wearing a backwards baseball cap. The third guy was leaning against the bricked wall with a cigarette between his lips. All three were encircling a pretty blonde girl whose expression remained stern as she stared at the middle guy.</p><p>“Stop being an asshole and get out of my way,” she said.</p><p>The middle guy took it as a challenge, and he stepped forward, his grin widening and reaching his hand for her.</p><p>“Hey!” Dream called out before he could, earning the attention of the four figures. George felt bad for dreading what was about to happen. “Leave her alone.”</p><p>The main guy arched an eyebrow, eyeing Dream up and down and then glancing between George and Skeppy. “Who the hell are you supposed to be?”</p><p>“Looks like a bunch of nobodies to me,” the guy with the cigarette said and blew out a cloud of smoke. “Don’t think they know how things work around here, Al.”</p><p>Al laughed, turning to face Dream properly when he stopped a meter away from him. He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow as they drilled their gazes into one another. “I think you should get lost, buddy. Things won’t end well for you if you don’t.”</p><p>George could feel Dream’s anger peaking, and with uncertainty, he got closer and whispered, “We can’t start a fight.”</p><p>Al seemed to catch onto his words, however. “Hear that, boys? They really think they can take us.”</p><p>Dream grimaced, ignoring George and instead taking another step forward. George’s breath hitched when he saw Al do the same. Behind him, the blonde girl was watching them with intent.</p><p>“Why don’t we show them what they’re up against, Ty?”</p><p>“Gladly,” the guy at the wall, Ty, spit out his cigarette and grinned like a maniac. In less than a second, both his hands burst into flames.</p><p>On his other side, the guy with the cap flashed them a grin and drew out his sharpened canines. His nails protruded out like claws. It was only then that George noticed the ears poking under his hat and barely visible in between his brown hair.</p><p>“I’m giving you one more warning, buddy. Back the hell up,” Al spoke with caution. Slowly, he snatched a scrap of metal from the ground and used both hands to bend it without effort like he was trying to scare them off. When Dream didn’t back away, Al grew frustrated and threw the first punch.</p><p>All hell broke loose. Dream stopped his fist with his hand and then punched Al across the jaw. Stunned, Al stumbled back and seemed to finally realize they were EMs too. He narrowed his eyes and grimaced.</p><p>“That’s it!” Al lunged forward again.</p><p>On his other side, Ty launched a fireball toward Skeppy who grabbed a trash can lid in one swift movement to block it. In front of him, the hybrid launched toward George with his claws drawn. George barely managed to jump out of the way.</p><p>He felt like he was back at the ring with Techno on his tail. He dodged and weaved under the hybrid’s attacks. His claws drew lines across his vision. They grazed his cheek and made him yelp when he felt the stinging. On his peripheral, he caught Skeppy launching the trash can lid his way. George barely caught it. The hybrid’s nails scraped the metal when he swung again and the sound of it made George’s ears hurt.</p><p>“Heads up,” Dream shouted behind him. He turned, barely managing to duck under a dumpster flying his way. It sent both his lid and the hybrid flying out of the alley.</p><p>Nearby, Skeppy was concentrating on dodging Ty’s fire charges. Ty grimaced, and he dashed toward him with a huge flame in hand and launched it straight at him. Skeppy retaliated with a whirlwind that sent a small fire twister back at Ty. It blinded his vision, and it was all it took for Skeppy to burst through the cloud of smoke and hit him square in the head with a scrap of wood from the floor.</p><p>Beside them, Dream was still sparring against Al who barely noticed his two friends had been knocked out cold. With the momentary distraction, Dream managed to get a heads up and throw him to the ground. He stood over him with his fists drawn and Al backed away, glaring before he got on his feet and ran over to Ty who let out a pained groan as he wrapped one arm around Al’s shoulders.</p><p>“You guys are fucking insane,” Al shouted before he rushed out of the alleyway, following the hybrid who’d barely recuperated from being hit by the dumpster. They ran off like dogs with their tails between their legs.</p><p>Skeppy laughed, shouting out a “Hanyah!” and throwing his fists in the air.</p><p>The adrenaline still had George’s head buzzing with energy, and he had to step back to steady himself on the wall and catch his breath. Dream approached him to check if he was okay, but before he got to say anything, the forgotten blonde girl said, “I appreciate it, but Al’s harmless. He’s full of himself, but he’s too stupid to be a real threat. You really didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>She stood a few meters away staring at them with intrigue, not appearing even a bit scared or surprised whatsoever. Her head was tilted and she had her arms crossed. It wasn’t exactly what George expected after having defended her.</p><p>“Looked like a threat to me when he was trying to knock the shit out of me.” Dream snorted. “But sorry if we caused you any trouble. We’ll just get going.”</p><p>Just as they were about to head out of the alley, the girl spoke up. “You guys are the ones from the news, aren’t you?”</p><p>George’s blood ran cold and his whole body tensed up. He turned around, instinctively getting ready to use his powers on her but she was quick to say, “Don’t worry. I’m not going to say anything.”</p><p>It made George pause, and he looked toward Dream who appeared just as puzzled. “What do you want?”</p><p>“Nothing.”</p><p>Dream remained unconvinced.</p><p>“Really,” the girl repeated, stepping away from the wall to get closer. She reached into her pocket, and George’s eyes went wide, all kinds of alarms blaring in his head. However, his panic turned into confusion just as quickly when he saw her take out a tiny bud. She hovered her other palm above it and slowly, it bloomed into a seedling.</p><p>“You’re an EM?” Skeppy asked in surprise.</p><p>Her smile grew wider as she looked up again. “I did say Al wasn’t a threat to me.” She kneeled down and placed the seedling on a dirt patch, patting it lightly and letting it flourish into a pretty Marigold. Then she stood again and regarded them once more.</p><p>“You guys have sure made a name for yourselves out here.”</p><p>Dream shrugged. “We’re in a bit of a hurry so-”</p><p>“To do what?”</p><p>Hesitantly, they all glanced at each other, not exactly wanting to uncover themselves more than they already had. Not to mention, George wasn’t about to trust a random stranger in the street.</p><p>“What would a couple of AGE students be doing in Seattle? Are you looking for something?”</p><p>“That’s not your business,” George said.</p><p>She seemed a little taken aback by not only his sudden comment but also his half-aggressive tone. “It’s not, but maybe I can help.”</p><p>Narrowing his eyes, Dream asked, “Why would you want to help us?”</p><p>She stared at him momentarily. George found it hard to read her. He wasn’t sure if it was just Dream and Skeppy’s auras overpowering hers or if she was actually able to block him out, but her mind felt out of reach. It only made him more hesitant toward her as he had no way of knowing where her intentions stood.</p><p>Taking out a piece of paper and a pen from the small bag she was carrying, she scribbled something on it. Then she offered the slip to Dream. George stepped closer to peak at it. It had an address written on it.</p><p>“I have a feeling we can help each other out. Go there if you want. Trust me when I say, you won’t regret it.” She backed away toward the entrance of the alley, but before turning to leave, the sides of her mouth crinkled and she smiled wide.</p><p>“Tell them Niki sent you.”</p><p>And then she walked off before they could ask her anything else. </p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3><p>“Are you sure this is the address?”</p><p>They stood in front of a technology shop named Technapaloozical’s Corner at the end of a lone street. Although it was a rather ridiculous name, the high pitch hum of the glowing open sign behind the barred windows was unsettling. George glimpsed through the glass door but there was no one at the front desk. Just as he was about to open the door, Dream said, “Yeah. Though, uh, it says back door?”</p><p>Spotting a small corridor alleyway beside the building, George walked over to investigate. There was a door half-hidden by a dumpster in the very back. A camera with a flickering light was pointed toward the entrance of it. It didn’t exactly give off the safest impression. “You mean that one?”</p><p>“Maybe?”</p><p>Hesitantly walking over to it, George tried the handle, and after finding it locked, Skeppy pressed what appeared to be a call-receiver button at the side of the door. At first, there was no reply. Seeing as how suspicious the situation appeared, George was about to suggest they leave until what seemed like an altered deep voice answered them through the speaker.</p><p>“Who are you and what do you want?”</p><p>George pursed his lips as he sent Dream a confused glance. He seemed as apprehensive as George was about the situation. Seattle was already an unsettling place with a lot of sketchy people on its own, but being handed a mysterious address by some random EM on the street did not resonate well with him, and so he was about to propose they find another lead until Skeppy replied.</p><p>“Niki sent us. She said you could help us?”</p><p>The voice was silent for a second before the door unlocked and a gloved hand reached out and handed them three blindfolds. Puzzled, Dream took them and then tried to sneak a peek inside but the door closed in front of his face before he could. The longer it went on the more George just wanted to return to the hospital and deal with the consequences, but he knew neither Dream nor Skeppy would want to back out now. Especially considering the latter appeared to grow more desperate by the minute. It wasn’t that George didn’t understand where he was coming from, but he was worried Skeppy would only end up making an irrational decision due to his growing desperation.</p><p>“Put those on.”</p><p>“We don’t-” Dream tried to protest.</p><p>“Put them on!”</p><p>Dream looked toward George for reassurance, but he couldn’t find it in himself to offer any. On the contrary, everything about the setting was screaming at George to turn back now. There had to be another way that didn’t involve walking straight into a sketchy building that might’ve as well been an EM trafficking operation base or worse. Even more worrisome was the fact that if they did go missing, nobody would know where to look for them and Sapnap would awake in the hospital not knowing what happened to his best friends or why they abandoned him.</p><p>Dream’s hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his thoughts. Skeppy had already put his blindfold on and Dream was staring at him with that annoying look that said ‘trust me.’ It wasn’t that George didn’t trust him, it was more like he didn’t trust whoever was behind that door. Gripping the black fabric in his hands, he took a deep breath before tying it around his eyes.</p><p>As soon as he did, he heard the door unlock and he felt two presences approach them. A significantly higher pitched tone that sounded like it was trying to imitate a deeper voice spoke.</p><p>“Come on in.”</p><p>George felt himself be pulled inside. “Watch out for the stairs.”</p><p>He nearly misstepped on the first step, but behind him, Dream steadied him almost instinctively. George’s breath hitched at both almost falling and the feel of Dream’s warm hands gripping his arms tight.</p><p>The mysterious voice and the silent presence beside them led them down a staircase and what sounded like a hollow and lengthy hallway. They stopped at what seemed to be a few more doors before continuing inside until George heard a metal chair’s legs scraping against the concrete floor and being set behind him.</p><p>“Sit down and take off your blindfolds.”</p><p>When George untied the blindfold and opened his eyes, it took a second for them to adjust, but when they did, he certainly didn’t expect what he saw. There was a sole table in front of them with the spotlight of a white light from a computer lamp pointed at their faces and making everything harder to see. He reached his hand in front of his eyes to properly look behind it.</p><p>Two teenage boys were standing behind the table staring them down. The taller one had messy, sandy blonde hair and stood akimbo with a determined look on his face like he was trying to appear intimidating (though he wasn’t doing a very good job at it). Meanwhile, the brown-haired boy beside him had his hands inclined on the table and was watching them through narrowed eyes. George found himself more confused than dreadful of the scene, and from Dream and Skeppy’s auras beside him, he could tell they felt similarly.</p><p>“Who are you!?” What do you want!?” The two British boys spoke over each other. Then they exchanged a glance and after, turned back to look at George and his friends. “Why are you here!?” “How did you find us!?”</p><p>Looking at each other again, the blonde one groaned and pulled the other boy back, speaking a low, “Big T, a moment, please?”</p><p>They turned around and whispered to each other, though George didn’t need Dream’s superhuman ears to hear them.</p><p>“Tubbo! What did I tell you?”</p><p>“Uh, you said to follow your lead?”</p><p>“Yes, and that means for <em> you </em> to stand back and let <em> me </em> do the questioning.”</p><p>“Got it!”</p><p>They turned around again, and the blonde stomped over, slamming his hands on the table too hard and glaring in between them. “Alright, listen up dicks, you’re going to tell me who you are and what you’re doing here <em> right now! </em>”</p><p>“Yeah, right now!”</p><p>The blonde boy sent his friend (Tubbo?) a glare that made Dream snort. He looked at Dream in an instant. “Who are you laughing at, bitch boy?”</p><p>“I thought our interrogator would be scarier than this,” Skeppy said.</p><p>The blonde boy might’ve as well been fuming from his ears. He pulled his sleeves up, flared his nostrils and made his way toward Skeppy with his fists clenched. “Oh, I’ll show you scary!”</p><p>“Wait!” Tubbo got in front of him before he could, laughing awkwardly. “Uh…” He glanced at the three of them and then dragged the other boy toward the wall to discuss among themselves again.</p><p>“Phil’s gonna be upset if you beat up the guests.”</p><p>“Phil’s not here, so by default, I’m the lead today. And I can beat up whoever the fuck I want!”</p><p>“What about Wilbur?”</p><p>“He doesn’t have to know.”</p><p>“But Niki already called to tell us they were coming!”</p><p>“She doesn’t have to-”</p><p>“I hate to interrupt whatever it is you two are doing but can we talk to whoever’s in charge here?” Dream asked.</p><p>Looking over his shoulder, the blonde grimaced. “I’m the one in charge so you can talk to <em> me </em>!”</p><p>“I highly doubt they’d put a child in charge.”</p><p>“I’m not a child!”</p><p>“Yeah, he just turned fourteen!” </p><p><em> “Tubbo,” </em> the child glared at Tubbo. “You’re not helping.”</p><p>“Look, uh-” Dream raised an eyebrow and the blonde groaned.</p><p>“It’s Tommy.”</p><p>“Tommy.” Dream sounded like he was trying not to laugh and George couldn’t help but snicker at the sound of it. It earned him a glare from Tommy too. “We just want to know who we can talk to about getting help.”</p><p>“You can talk to me.”</p><p>Chuckling lightly, Dream replied, “Is there maybe someone a little <em> older </em> that could help us?”</p><p>“I’ll have you know I’m <em> very </em> mature for my age.”</p><p>“Yeah. We both are!” Tubbo perked in.</p><p>“<em> I </em>am.” Tommy pointed at himself. “So whatever you want help with, you can ask me for it.” He crossed his arms and smiled smugly.</p><p>George huffed, rolling his eyes and figuring Niki’s lead had been a waste of time after all. Though at least they hadn’t been robbed, kidnapped or killed, so he guessed that was a plus.</p><p>Staring at Tommy, Dream looked like he was trying his hardest to contain his laughter. After a minute, he finally managed to get it together and clear his throat. “On second thought, I think we’ll just leave instead.”</p><p>“Wait, you can’t leave!” Tubbo shouted as they stood up. He looked straight at George. “You’re that Psychic from the news, right? I saw you save that woman at the petrol station!”</p><p>“You saw-” George furrowed his eyebrows, suddenly remembering the figure he’d seen watching them right before the car accident. “What do you want from us?”</p><p>“We need your help with our mission!”</p><p>“Mission?” Skeppy asked.</p><p>Tommy cleared his throat and stepped in front of Dream. “Look, I reckon you’re in need of help so from man to man, we have a proposition for you.” He leaned his elbows on the table and looked at them through narrowed eyes. “You help us and we help you.”</p><p>“Help with what?”</p><p>“You go first, big man.”</p><p>Sighing, Dream signaled George and Skeppy toward the door. “I think we’re done here.”</p><p>Tommy jumped in front of them before they could. “You don’t get to leave before I tell you to leave!”</p><p>Out of nowhere, the door opened and a relatively good-looking tall guy in a yellow long-sleeve with long, spiky brown hair peeking out of a red beanie and partly covering his right eye glanced inside in confusion. He looked toward Tommy and Tubbo and then at the trio and then back at the two boys. “Tommy. What the fuck is going on here? Why have you put our guests in the cupboard?”</p><p>“Heeeey, Wilby, we were just, uh, you know, showing them around.” Tommy’s voice instantly shifted from its previous assurance into a more high-pitched and unsure tone.</p><p>The guy looked around. “Showing them the spare cupboard?”</p><p>“It <em> is </em> really <em> nice </em> and <em> big </em>,” Tubbo pointed out as he looked around.</p><p>“We, uh, brought a table inside and some chairs to make them comfortable,” Tommy added while scratching the back of his head. “And a, um, big, bright lamp to help them see better too...” He chuckled awkwardly.</p><p>The guy looked unconvinced. “I’ll deal with you both later,” he muttered before walking past them and toward Dream. George felt his fight or flight instincts kick in as the guy reached his hand out but instead of launching any sort of attack, he offered a handshake.</p><p>Dream hesitantly took it.</p><p>The corners of his mouth turned up into a charming smile. “Sorry about them, mate. Name’s Wilbur.” He looked in between them with growing interest. “You’re the lads who helped Niki earlier, right?”</p><p>“Yeah…” Dream watched him with hesitance. “I’m Dream and these are Skeppy and George.”</p><p>“It’s a pleasure. Why don’t you follow me out there and we can talk in the living room?” He sent Tommy and Tubbo a slight glare but then shone his smile toward Dream, Skeppy, and George as they passed.</p><p>Wilbur led them out of the cupboard into a fairly modern-looking room with a long sofa in front of a plasma TV and a kitchen directly connected to it. To their left, there was a hallway with several doors branching on each side and a single open one at the end that lead to some sort of conference table.</p><p>They sat down on the sofa in front of Wilbur who watched them all with an alluring grin and an aura that helped George feel more at ease in the foreign bunker. Tommy and Tubbo followed close behind, settling themselves at the other side of the room whisper-shouting amongst themselves, though this time, George couldn’t quite hear them. By Dream’s quiet chuckles though, he assumed they were still arguing.</p><p>“Tommy and Tubbo, why don’t you guys go call Phil?”</p><p>“But we want to-”</p><p>“Call Phil,” Wilbur spoke more clearly. Frowning, Tommy grumbled under his breath and marched toward the hallway. Tubbo smiled and waved goodbye with awkward excitement before following in his footsteps.</p><p>Turning back to the trio, Wilbur chuckled and looked at each of them with interest. “Word on the street has it you’ve been causing a ruckus all across the states, haven’t you?” He leaned against the coffee table in front of where the TV was mounted with his arms and legs crossed. His eyebrows scrunched together momentarily. “Weren’t there four of you?”</p><p>George bit his lip nervously and felt Dream tense up beside him. “Our friend is recovering from something right now, so he’s not with us,” Dream explained.</p><p>“Oh.” Wilbur tilted his head. “Well then. I hope he’s alright. I hear you’re in Seattle for a reason, right? I suppose since you took up Niki’s offer, you’ve got to need help with something. Why don’t you tell me what you need?”</p><p>“After <em> you </em> tell us what you need,” Dream replied with suspicion but made sure his words were clear, “we’ll tell you what we need.”</p><p>Wilbur examined him for a second before his smile widened. “Fair enough. We-”</p><p>“Wilbur!” another voice caught their attention from the hallway, and they all turned toward it.</p><p>As soon as he locked eyes with the new guy, his blood ran cold and he felt goosebumps override him. There wasn’t exactly anything externally malicious about the newcomer’s appearance. He wore a formal black suit with a red tie that contrasted against his jacket and the white shirt below. His brown hair was curly and messy and his wide-toothed smile looked half-sinister below his brown mustache and with both eyebrows raised.</p><p>However, behind his oddly formal attire, there was something off about his aura. It vaguely reminded George of all those times Dream didn’t want George catching onto a certain emotion, and he masked it so even though George couldn’t tell what he was feeling, he knew he was hiding something.</p><p>It felt like the guy was putting on a well-rehearsed act.</p><p>He stepped forward with both hands inside the pockets of his pantsuit, watching George and his friends with interest.</p><p>“Mind introducing me to our new guests? Recruits, by any chance?”</p><p>“Schlatt. I hadn’t realized you got out of work so early. They’re not recruits, mate.” Wilbur looked them over. “At least not yet,” he said with a shining smile. “But they do need help and we most definitely could use theirs.”</p><p>Schlatt approached. He scrutinized them all individually before his eyes locked with George at the end of the line. George felt exposed under his gaze, but for whatever reason, he couldn’t look away. When he attempted to get inside his mind, he was met with retaliation, and he found himself jerking back from the unexpected action. Dream put his hand on his shoulder to steady him.</p><p>For a second, Schlatt continued staring at him before his mouth widened into a grin again and he chuckled. “Sorry. I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I? I’m Schlatt, Phil’s right-hand man.”</p><p>“Who’s Phil?” Skeppy asked.</p><p>Schlatt turned to Wilbur. “You haven’t told them?”</p><p>“I was just about to do so before you got here.” Wilbur opened his arms wide to signal the room. “Welcome to Sleepy HQ,” he told them with a proud smirk.</p><p>“Home of the Bergman Defenders.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Super duper important information about everything related to the hiatus, updates, the spin-off (which y'all can probably guess what it might be about aha), and the story ahead, so make sure to read!</p><p>By popular demand on the survey, I will be doing two Q&amp;A's for this story. The first will be a simple Twitter Q&amp;A that will take place this coming Monday at 5PM CT. There's an announcement about it on my Twitter. You don't need Twitter to send me questions, you can send anonymous questions through <a href="https://forms.gle/1XxkNpNqz68nt6oP6">this form</a> or you can tag me @Mel_LightNS me the day of with your questions. It's just a small little event to interact with y'all and answer some of the questions I've gotten about things like world-building, writing, the Extramundane universe, etc.</p><p>The second Q&amp;A will be a little bigger and will take place on Twitch the weekend of the finale (there will be a post on my Twitter very soon about the date and time for the finale release). I will be talking about the story in full seeing as it will have ended (?) by then and there will probably be a little more fun stuff involved :D</p><p>As of now, we are in hiatus. The prospective date for Chapter 13's release is Friday, May 14th. I will be posting the names of the chapters and a full release date schedule on my Twitter for both Aether's Legacy and the spinoff.</p><p>... Speaking of the spinoff. Y'all ready for a little announcement?</p><p>*Drum Roll*</p><p>  <b>Runaway Destinies, Woven Stories, &amp; Kindred Hearts</b></p><p>Summary: Tommy doesn't need a home. He's been fine on his own—it's just better that way. His parents? Buried six feet underground. His old crew? Arrested for "domestic terrorism" or some bullshit excuse like that. Tommy doesn't need a family, so he doesn't understand why this new group of strangers insist on taking him in.</p><p>Worst of all—they're peace warriors. Tommy despises peace warriors. In a war split between super-powered freaks vs. normals who like to shit on them, peace warriors refuse to fight. The only way to save their kind, Tommy believes, is through aggressive confrontation. But Phil doesn't believe that, and Tommy is set on proving him wrong. Unfortunately, going against a multi-billion dollar manufacturing company that exploits Extramundanes on his own isn't quite as easy as he believed. It doesn't help that this random annoying Aqua boy is insistent on helping him out. But again, Tommy doesn't need anyone. He's always been fine on his own.</p><p>//Extramundane Origins: Bergman Defenders; in-canon with Aether's Legacy</p><p>What do y'all think? Anybody else excited?</p><p>There are four chapters, and they will be released on the same days the last four chapters of Aether's Legacy are posted. This story is about the origins of the Bergman Defenders and it, thus, takes place in the past. It can be read as a standalone as well, so it doesn't depend on you reading Aether's Legacy. I did that so people who aren't comfy with shippy fics can still enjoy a little sbi found family in this universe without having to read dnf. </p><p>The schedule and chapter names for both stories will be posted on my Twitter soon and so will a lot of other tidbits and extra things during the hiatus.</p><p>Finally, Aether's Legacy and this universe is so deeply personal and special to me and I appreciate all you've done for me. You've offered me a voice and a place to share my creation with the world and for that, I couldn't be more thankful. Y'all are the absolute most sweetest and interactive community of readers I've had in my seven years of writing fanfiction, and I love reading all your sweet comments about how much you're enjoying this story! Thank you so much for everything! Don't be afraid to interact with me on Twitter or Tumblr, I love talking to y'all!</p><p>Also, this is basically the perfect point for readers to come into the story seeing as we have four major chapters left and we're almost at 90k words, so y'all can share with your friends if you'd think they'd enjoy the story too! :))</p><p>See y'all in three weeks! </p><p>Con muchisimo amor,</p><p>Light &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p><p>Chapter Notes:<br/>- When I tell y'all my best friend really said "Why is he either always waking up or thinking something is boring?" about my hooks for scenes... I looked at her like D:<br/>- NIKI WOOOO<br/>- Walking into a mysterious dark alley and getting handed a blindfold to put on, seems logical (/j /j /j please, do not try at home, this is a fictional story)<br/>- and I quote, Grav, "tommy and tubbo? tommy and tubbo? TOMMY AD YUBBP?"<br/>- Good cop bad cop scene, ugh such a classic<br/>- BERGMAN DEFENDERS how did nobody catch it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Bergman Defenders</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Round of applause for Grav who still took the time to revise this despite me sending it supper late, thank you so much &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This absolutely could not be happening.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just a few days ago, George had been arguing with Dream about his vehement disagreement on the way the Bergman Defenders operated. And now he was literally sitting in their living room being propositioned for a mission—an</span>
  <em>
    <span> illegal </span>
  </em>
  <span>mission that would most definitely bump them up in the wanted list and get him locked up behind metal bars or worse: a facility. It felt like fate had just slapped him straight across the face with a brick. He absolutely despised the concept of irony.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s simple. You help us expose Project Salvida and we’ll help you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re looking for the facility where our friend is being kept. Are you sure you know where that is?” Skeppy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course we do. We know everything around here,” Wilbur assured him. He slung his arm over the armrest of the couch and smiled coyly. “Phil’s on his way to debrief you on the mission, if you agree that is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And we could really use the help of a Psychic on this,” Schlatt added with a side-smirk and sent him a look. George didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, he sunk further into the cushions and leaned slightly against Dream’s side on instinct.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in,” Dream said with no hesitation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George did a double take. “Woah! Hold on.” He shook his head frantically and stood up, attempting to process what the hell was going on. He turned to Dream and Skeppy and eyed them warily. “Guys? A second? Shouldn’t we talk about this first!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright. A few minutes to discuss then. I’ll leave you be.” Wilbur got on his feet and gestured to Schlatt toward the hallway. He flashed them a smile before leaving and said, “Just know we do this to help our community when the city doesn’t. We don’t intend any harm or anything. Take your time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he heard the door at the end of the hallway close, he stepped in front of Skeppy and Dream with both eyebrows raised, unbelieving of how easily they had just agreed to help wanted criminals they didn’t even personally know. Especially after they’d just escaped from a fucking hospital and every news station in the country was displaying their names with shiny letters and a hefty reward for their skins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened to our not-dragging-attention-to-ourselves promise? This is like the complete opposite of what we should be doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have another option,” Skeppy replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Says the guy who insisted we had another option like a few hours ago,” George pointed out in frustration. He alternated glances at them with a wide-eyed expression. “Guys? We can’t just join a criminal activist group! We’re throwing ourselves into the lion’s den here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re not asking us to join the group, George. They’re asking us to help. Just this once,” Dream said. Exhaling a long breath, he stood up and locked his gaze on him. It made George’s fingers buzz with unpleasant energy. “Look. We’re going to do this. If it means saving Bad and helping EMs while we’re at it then this is clearly the best choice.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The best choice for you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dream.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” George couldn’t keep the animosity from his tone. “But if we do this and we get caught, it’s all over for us. We won’t be able to go back to AGE. We’ll be locked up and we might not even end up finding Bad. It’s too risky!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream stared George down, and his next words felt like a bullet to the chest. “You wanted to come, George. If you can’t deal with it, go back to the hospital.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George took a step back. His eyebrows furrowed together and his voice came out fragile and quiet. “You don’t mean that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a moment of silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy took it as a chance to clear his throat. “I’m going to go find the restroom…” he said before scurrying away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream and George completely disregarded him and instead continued staring at each other. George’s ears were suddenly more aware of the gentle stream of air exiting from the vent in the corner of the room. The way it stuck cold against his skin and kept him on his toes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“George.” Frowning, Dream took a deep breath. The gap in his lips remained for a second, hesitating to admit what he thought. “I just don’t want you to get hurt. And that way you can stay with Sapnap. He won’t wake up by himself. Skeppy and I can take it. We’ll have help and we’ll be able to find Bad easily after this. There’s no point in risking all of us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clenching his fists, George stomped forward. He stopped only a few centimeters from him. Dream’s emotions and thoughts were completely closed off at this point, but George didn’t need his telepathy to understand the meaning behind his words. “That’s just it! This mission is already a big risk and you still want to take it.” His words were like daggers scraping against metal. “Just admit that you’ve always thought of me as a liability—that you didn’t think I was capable of this trip in the first place.” George tried to keep his voice from cracking. But it failed him. “Next thing you’re going to tell me is that the only reason you became my friend was because you thought I needed protection.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream remained unmoving. The creases on his brow softened at the accusation, but his voice kept the same resoluteness. “You know that’s not true.” He exhaled, running a hand through his hair and turning away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George wanted to grip his shoulders and turn him. Force him to look into his eyes. Force him to open up for once and be completely honest with what he was feeling. He was tired of their games. He was tired of the arguing. He was tired of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s the best choice and you know it. If you don’t think that… then you might as well just leave. Us fighting is only going to make everything worse here. You don’t have to worry about us. We have help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George pressed a hand on Dream’s shoulder and made him half-turn, locking their gazes again. He couldn’t help the desperation in his voice when he said, “Dream. Please. We don’t have to do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream’s aura finally came into focus and revealed a pang of shrouded guilt below his stubborn determination. The front door broke their conversation. They turned to see a blonde man with a faded stubble and a silly slouchy striped hat stride inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man spotted them and smiled almost instantly, approaching them to shake their hands and introduce himself. “You must be Niki’s guests! Sorry I was running a bit late. Name’s Phil... and you two are?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They simultaneously stumbled over their introductions as Phil shook their hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door opened up wider and behind him, two other figures walked inside. George’s jaw hit the ground when he recognized them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno?” “Dream?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fundy?” “George?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> doing here?” they asked all at once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil shut the door, smiling wide and looking in between the four. “I take it you lads know each other?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Saying we know each other is kinda an understatement,” Dream said while crossing his arms. George almost wanted to laugh at the slight bitterness of the statement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil raised a curious eyebrow. “Alright, well. Let’s go talk about this in the meeting room, yeah?”</span>
</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re telling me these are your mates from AGE?” Wilbur cracked up, watching them all with astonishment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Well.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dream cleared his throat. He raised his chin to glance at Techno. “I wouldn’t exactly say we’re best friends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait a second!” Tommy jumped up from his chair. He examined Dream through narrowed eyes. Then he burst into maniac cackles and clapped his hands together. “Is this the guy you beat at that mod competition Fundy showed us a video of?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream scoffed. “It was by like three seconds.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno, who was leaning against the wall by the door, looked over at them, his smirk barely visible but still smug. He swiped his long, pink braid off his shoulder and crossed his arms, sending Dream an unimpressed eyebrow raise. “It’s been almost four years and the guy is</span>
  <em>
    <span> still</span>
  </em>
  <span> salty about it. He just doesn’t like to admit it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream snorted in the way he usually did when he was trying to preserve his dignity. George was both amused and annoyed at the fact they were wasting time. “I am </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>salty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George huffed and leaned back on his chair, pursing his lips and looking around the room. It was a conference room with a humongous table that could seat at least twenty. In the front of the room, Phil was setting up something on the large computer monitor with a plasma TV showing a visual of the cameras in the building: one in the technology store, one in the alleyway entrance, and one in the front of the building.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Does nobody run the front desk at all? Aren’t you guys worried about being robbed or something?” Skeppy had asked earlier.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Nah. We have a reputation around here. Who’d try to rob us?” Wilbur replied.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“He’s lyin’. They’ve broken in and stolen plenty of stuff before. Don’t even know why they bothered breakin’ the front window, they could’ve just walked in and taken it. Nobody takes care of the shop around here anymore,” Techno said.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dream and George had laughed at that.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across from him, Niki was looking over Tubbo’s shoulder, pointing and whispering every so often, as he frantically pressed the buttons of his game console with an intense look of concentration. She looked so different in this light. Her demeanor was kind and relaxed, constantly smiling, joking around with the others and dropping everything to help them. George was admittedly getting more comfortable with her. Tubbo was somewhat similar, though George had noticed he had a certain wit to his remarks and he liked to play dumb sometimes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Beside them, Fundy was focused on typing on his laptop. Although George hadn’t talked to him all that much during their time at AGE, the one thing he knew for certain was the hybrid was </span>
  <em>
    <span>obsessed</span>
  </em>
  <span> with computers, and he was pretty amazing with them too. They’d taken a computer science course together the year prior. Seeing as George sat behind him, he’d always noticed Fundy was so good at coding he finished his assignment during the first fifteen minutes just so he could code what looked to be Minebuild mods the rest of the time. George had always wanted to ask to try them, but Sapnap and Fundy had always had a little unofficial rivalry that had kept George from so much as talking to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he saw Fundy notice him staring, he opted toward turning to the front where Wilbur was standing beside Phil watching the screen. Beside him, Tommy was babbling on about something that Wilbur seemed to only be half-listening to. On the other side of Phil, Schlatt was standing with his arms crossed whispering something and sending them blank looks every so often. George kept a close eye on him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, welcome every handsome lad and Niki to the meeting,” Wilbur announced to gain everybody’s attention. “We are gathered here today to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dude, this isn’t a wedding. Just get on with it!” Fundy called out, getting several nods of agreement and a few chuckles from the others.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rolling his eyes, Wilbur pointed toward Phil, “Take it away, Phil!” He retreated to sit in one of the front seats. Tommy followed behind still blabbering. In response, Wilbur shushed him and told him to sit down which Tommy refused with a big pout until Wilbur forcefully pulled him onto the chair next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ooookay.” Phil cleared his throat and pulled up his presentation which made George feel like he was sitting back at Ms. Lamar’s class staring at her endless slides in boredom. “Let’s just jump straight in. Our goal is taking down Project Salvida which I reckon you three must have heard of?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sketchy org that keeps showing up on TV?” Dream asked. “The one Mark Bryan is president of?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil pointed at him and nodded. “Exactly. Project Salvida is a nonprofit humanitarian and service organization.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy scoffed. “Because supporting companies that purposefully get mods hooked on drugs is </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> humanitarian of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you shut up for one second, Tommy? We’re getting there,” Wilbur said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just saying those bitches deserve-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil continued with his presentation like Wilbur and Tommy weren’t still bickering in the front row. He changed the slide to an image of a map of the neighborhood with highlighted sections marked into groups labeled businesses, parks and landscape, housing, and more. “They’re currently trying to approve their ‘Long Live Queen Anne’ urban planning project which involves significantly renovating the neighborhood,” he emphasized by pointing to the floor, “to include more businesses, improve outdoor community spaces to be more environmentally friendly and reconstruct the majority of the housing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t that sorta good?” Skeppy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh please,” Tommy said and slammed his first on the table. “Bryan couldn’t pull off anything good even if he found a woman to-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur ignored Tommy. Instead, he stood up and pointed toward Skeppy. “Glad you asked! Phil, I can take it from here,” he said as he performed a smooth 180 with a shining smile like he was readying to present the next big invention of the century. “What’s the problem, you ask? I’ll tell you what the problem is!” He pressed on to the next slide which was a color-labeled diagram map shaded with percentages of the normal population versus the Extramundane population in the city. “This neighborhood has historically been home to huge populations of EMs.” The next diagram showed average incomes in Seattle neighborhoods. “It’s also historically one of the poorest neighborhoods around. Now, Project Salvida claims to be doing the city a favor by improving infrastructure and funding in this neighborhood. The problem is they are completely ignoring the issue of rising property values. In other words-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’re planning to gentrify the neighborhood,” Dream finished for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aha!” Wilbur slammed his little control on the table. “Now Phil’s been trying to work through his connections to address the issue but Project Salvida is a big organization supported by the majority of the politicians-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy made a gagging noise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“- here so we haven’t gotten anything done. Everyone’s turning a blind eye at the destruction of our neighborhood and we won’t let that happen. So we’re planning to infiltrate their convention this week and expose them live in front of the whole city. And with that debriefing, what have you got to say? Are you in?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a pause and then Skeppy raised his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, young gentleman in the back?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I only caught onto half of that so…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind George, Technoblade’s huff caught the attention of everyone in the room. “A rich company supports expensive neighborhoods that poor EM families can’t afford and will end up on the streets because of. And nobody’s doin’ anything about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ohhh.” Skeppy nodded in understanding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in,” Dream replied instantly after that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George shifted uncomfortably in his seat. At the front of the room, he made eye contact with Schlatt who had been leaning against the monitor throughout the whole presentation with his arms crossed and a blank stare fixed on him. It made all the hairs on his arm stand up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Brilliant news!” Tubbo exclaimed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George tensed. He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as he sent Dream a look that clearly shouted, </span>
  <em>
    <span>we need to talk about this first.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Except Dream completely disregarded him. He wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that he was still angry about their argument.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You might as well just leave.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scowling, George’s chair squeaked as he stood up. Everyone turned to him. Swallowing, he announced, “I need some fresh air,” before walking out of the room while trying not to make his angry aura obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The last thing he heard before walking out was Tubbo’s voice turning soft when he asked, “Was it something I said?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, the air was frigid and humid against his face. The sky was shrouded in darkness and the moon was hardly visible behind the blanket of grey clouds. The only lamp in the alleyway flashed on and off at random intervals and painted his shadow on the wall. He hugged himself and rested the back of his head against the brick wall. His hearing focused on the soft buzzing of the flickering lightbulb.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The clouds growled in the distance and a single raindrop hit his nose. George exhaled, remembering their previous night at the lake and wishing he could turn back time to that moment. Or at the hotel, cozily settled inside Dream’s embrace. Or even back at the cruise deck, watching the million stars above them. He looked up and realized there wasn’t even a single speck in the sky. Instead, the galaxy was shrouded by the cloudy skies and the light pollution of the city.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“George,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> a whisper in his ear startled him and he turned to look at the dead end bricked wall of the alley where his shadow stood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light above him flickered faster. From the ground, a shadow began to emerge onto the wall, growing with each flash of the lamp. Arms and legs sprouted from it and then a head. George’s eyes widened. His fists clenched beside him and his breathing quickened. He was too afraid to turn around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Please,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> it pleaded, high-pitched and hushed. </span>
  <em>
    <span>“Let me out, George.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George was frozen to his spot as he stared at the shadow as it grew bigger and bigger like it was approaching from behind him. The buzzing of the light grew louder inside his ears, the sound vibrating like there was a fly trapped in his ear canal. A few more raindrops hit his arm and cheeks and rolled down his skin. It set off goosebumps all throughout him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s in your nature, George.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shadow behind him engulfed his own. His heart dropped a thousand meters when he felt a presence breathe cold air on the back of his neck. He shut his eyes tight and silently begged for it to go away. His body felt weak and exhausted. He was so tired. So tired of everything—on the verge of collapsing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could hardly hear his own thoughts over the deafening buzzing in his ears. The rain drops hitting his shoulder. The flickering lights. The ticking echoing closer and closer inside his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop it!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I can help you. Just let me take control.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t!” he shouted and opened his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Everything stopped.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The alleyway was dark. George thought the lamp had burned out above him, but it flickered to life again, this time remaining on. The buzzing was barely discernible. He looked over his shoulder and realized he was alone. Thunder rumbled in the distance and the rain picked up, drenching his hair and shoulders. The only remnant of the event was the speed at which his heart was racing and the chills he still felt across his neck and shoulders when he rubbed the spot. Had he imagined everything?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door beside him opened, and Dream peaked his head out, frowning. “George? Why are you out in the rain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t respond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream sighed and opened the door wider. “Come on. Let’s talk in here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They sat down at the top steps of the concrete stairs. George pressed the side of his head against the metal railing next to him. The light was dim and there was a bug flying around and continuously thudding against the bulb. George almost laughed. It looked as desperate as he felt trying to figure himself out. He wondered if it ever grew tired of following the light. If it ever just considered giving up. Yet for a few seconds, it continued flying around the bulb, dead set on reaching it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed. The little guy was certainly more resilient than him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream shuffled closer and through his peripheral, he saw him slip off his hoodie and leave on his Nashville T-shirt below. George was confused until he felt Dream drape it over his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When George scrunched his eyebrows together and turned to him, Dream said, “You’re soaking wet and you’re shaking.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down at himself and realized he was right. He slipped off his wet hoodie and replaced it with Dream’s. He tried not to pay attention to the overwhelming scent of pine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t want to fight with you, George. We’ve finally gotten to Seattle and I know this is hard for you, but you need to admit it’s the best opportunity we have at finding Bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George pursed his lips and lowered his gaze. He was too tired to think properly. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and forget he was breathing. He was so, so tired.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“These are good people. We have the chance to make a difference and save Bad while we do it. Didn’t I tell you we’d be heroes one day? Well this is it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was back when we thought I’d gain control of my powers.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who says you won’t? It might not be by tomorrow or the day after that, but you will one day George.” Dream turned away, breathing through his mouth. “You’ve been fighting them for most of your life, George. Maybe… maybe it’s time to embrace them? Have you considered that maybe Sarah was wrong? Maybe AGE was wrong? Maybe the key to controlling them is just letting them be?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a long time, a part of him had questioned why he was doing this. Every time he remembered his mother’s words the day he left, when she’d called his abilities a disorder. Every time he relieved that moment he levitated a book for the first time, when his classmates and teacher had backed away in terror. Every time he recalled Sarah’s advice about containing them, about hiding them away and not using them. Every time, he considered the thought that maybe he didn’t need to fear them—that maybe, just maybe, he could consider them a gift for the first time in his life. But he always dismissed that side of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sarah’s story about Aether had only fortified his belief that he had to contain them. That one day, he’d be able to control them and tuck them away so well he’d forget they exist. That they didn’t need to be a part of his life. That he could be normal if he just tried hard enough. Except Dream had always kept him from fully believing that with his optimistic outlook, and most of all, his hope for George.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now, yet again, they were back here, fighting back and forth on whether George should embrace them or contain them. He didn’t blame him. Dream had always been proud of his roots, always adored showing off his abilities and using them for something he saw worth in. But Dream was a Bio-E. He had no idea what it was like to be a Psychic. And he was never going to. No one besides another Psychic could understand that constant struggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” George settled for saying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sensing he didn’t want to continue talking about it, Dream sighed and settled for putting his arm around George and pressing his head gently on his shoulder. George didn’t stop him. Instead, he exhaled heavily and blinked his eyes close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil is letting us stay in one of the spare rooms,” Dream said. He paused for a moment before continuing. “I told him you hadn’t decided if you wanted to help yet, and he said it was okay. That you could stay the night anyway, even if you weren’t with us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George hummed in agreement, feeling himself start to doze off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should get you to bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George didn’t respond. He heard Dream say something else, but he was so out of it, his voice was fuzzy and distant, and before he knew it, he fell asleep against Dream’s shoulder.</span>
</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Don’t strain yourself, George.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He opened his eyes with a gasp. His heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. His whole body felt like it’d just been electrified by a thousand bolts. His eyes traced the room quickly until he found Sarah’s eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Breathe,” she told him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He was in the clinic. Attempting to sit up on the white bed, his head grew dizzy and he held a hand up to his forehead to keep himself from wobbling.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Steady.” She placed a hand on his arm to stabilize him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What happened?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You passed out during the dance yesterday. Do you remember anything?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He blinked his eyes shut and remembered. The fight at the beach. Bad and Skeppy having a corn dog eating contest in front of them. Sapnap dragging him to the bouncy castle and then Skeppy turning it off while they were inside. Dream holding his hands as they danced to a lively beat, his smile radiant in the bright beams of the blue moon.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Only bits and pieces.” George rubbed his forehead and whimpered. “My head hurts.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah observed him intently, a pensive and concentrated look in her eyes. George could sense she was contemplating something, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He could only tell apart the tinge of concern in her aura.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is there something wrong with me?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She pursed her lips momentarily and her mouth fell into a thin line. “George, have you been noticing anything different about yourself as of late? Bouts of anger or strong emotions, hallucinations, dizzy spells, nightmares, paranoia, fear, anything abnormal with your abilities or of the sort?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I-” Scrunching his eyebrows together, he tried to remember any of the symptoms, but he couldn’t seem to come up with anything. “I don’t think so? Not besides yesterday.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The intense stare she sent him didn’t do much to reassure him.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Is there something wrong?” he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah sat back and crossed her arms. She tapped the pen in her hand against her clipboard at a fast rhythm. “I’m not quite sure. Yesterday was probably your empathy conflicting with the crowd and the fight might’ve been the last straw for your mind.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She was hiding something. It was obvious in the way she was speaking slower than usual, crossing her legs the other way—narrowing her eyes and thinking so loud. So so loud. He couldn’t tell of what, but he felt it. Although Sarah was always careful with her words, she never hid things from George. She was always straight and honest with her feelings.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why did you ask if I’ve noticed anything different?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah sighed. “They are all onset signs of your abilities evolving.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“But I’m already a Telepath,” he said while shaking his head in confusion. “How is that possible?” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She stopped tapping her pen. Her silence made George’s stomach feel sick. The sheets wrinkled around his fingertips as he clutched them tightly. “Sarah? There isn’t a stage past Type 3 Psychics, is there? It can’t be?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>After another pause, she uncrossed her legs, sat straighter, and then pushed the frame of her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “With the inconclusive results you got on your EM evaluation, it’s unlikely that-”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He raised his voice. “Is there a higher type that I don’t know about?” Sarah seemed taken aback by the sudden interruption. “Please answer me.” His voice cracked, growing weaker as he spoke, “You never hide things like this from me.” He clenched his fists at his sides.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Sarah took a deep breath. “Look, George. Take things easy for now. We don’t know anything for certain. It could just be your current abilities acting out, especially if there’s been any recent changes to your routine or relationships or your emotional state. Psychic abilities are tricky to pinpoint. Freaking out is only going to make it worse, so just take it easy and try not to use your powers for the time being until we figure out what’s going on. If anything happens at all, I should be the first person aware of it, okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>George pursed his lips and stared at her, unblinking. Her gaze was sharp and stern, revealing no outward emotion. He couldn’t sense anything abnormal in her aura. Whatever uncertainty and worry that had been present before had now vanished. It frustrated George that he couldn’t tell if she was being honest or if there was something hidden beneath the surface. But he couldn’t pry into her thoughts. Sarah was an expert at blocking him out. He supposed she had to be as she was the only Psychic counselor at AGE. It didn’t make it any better though. George just wanted her to tell him what was wrong with him—maybe then he’d be able to revert it. Block it out to make sure it’d never manifest.  </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“George,” she said, breaking him out of his thoughts.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Huh?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have to tell me if you notice anything wrong, okay? Try not to worry about it. You could potentially psych yourself out and lose control of your powers. It’ll only make things messier if you do so just…” she sighed. “Just take it easy for me, okay?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>George lowered his gaze. He rolled the gem on his neck in between his fingers and took a deep breath before replying, “Okay.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3>
<p>
  <span>George woke up by himself in the bottom bunk of a small room with only a closet and a lamp in sight. He jerked out of bed and searched frantically while trying to gauge where he was. After a few seconds, his thoughts focused, and he remembered the events of the previous night. Pressing his bare feet on the cold concrete ground, he shuffled toward the door that was slightly agape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside, he could hear muffled voices talking and when he opened it, he realized it was the TV in the living room across from his room. As he approached it, he noticed it was a news report retelling the events of the previous day. He clenched his jaw and turned away from it. He almost got a heart attack when he saw Wilbur with an arm on the kitchen counter observing him with a faint smile and holding a mug that said “Home Home” on his free hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning, mate,” he said and took a sip from his mug. “Care for some breakfast strudels Niki baked for us?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George raised an eyebrow and scratched the back of his neck, “Um, pass?” He searched the empty room. “Where is everyone?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They left for the shelter about an hour ago. Only me and Fundy stayed. I was going to go but your friend didn’t want to wake you up so I offered to stay here until you woke up so Phil could show them what we do on our afternoons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You mean you don’t just stir trouble in the streets?” George said without thinking, and his eyes widened at his own bluntness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur didn’t seem to take offense. Instead, he chuckled and placed his mug on the counter. Turning around, he opened the cabinet to retrieve a plate. “Contrary to popular belief, we’re not savages.” He turned and froze, thinking of it for a second. “Well, Tommy is, but everyone else isn’t. Most of the time, anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George snickered and walked closer. He crossed his arms and watched Wilbur intently as he took a strudel from a baking tray on the stove and put it on the plate. His guard was still up, considering being in a strange environment with people he didn’t really know nor agree with was stressful by itself, but Wilbur appeared harmless. So far, anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Could you take this to Fundy? He’s at the conference room.” Wilbur handed him the plate. “We’ll leave right after so you can meet up with your friends and see the shelter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taking the plate, George furrowed his eyebrows. “What’s this shelter you keep talking about?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur leaned both elbows on the counter and looked up at him with a grin. George found his face getting a little red at the undeniable allure of the guy. He was attractive, that was certain, but there was also a sort of gleam to his aura—big, bright, and bold. It was the only words George could use to describe it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s called ARRC. Stands for Aid, Recovery, Rehabilitation, and Community shelter. It’s meant to help underserved EM families and homeless EMs get back on their feet. Especially recovering Xelies.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Xelies?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Xela druggies.” Wilbur nodded along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Although he’d heard of Xela and he’d heard of students sneaking it into the island (especially during big events where all they had to do was to “ask for Alex” to get their hands on some), he’d never actually run into an addict. They’d talked about it during one of his Biology classes years ago, mentioned how it was originally meant to help Bio-E’s with certain illnesses, but it’d ended up turning into an addictive drug that could starve its user and kill them within a few years span. George hadn’t realized it was a big enough problem to warrant a whole shelter dedicated to caring for Xela abusers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Raising an eyebrow, Wilbur’s smirk widened. “You want to go take that to Fundy or have you got plans to stand there all day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George realized he was still holding the plate and shyly nodded, turning around to make his way down the hallway. In the conference room, Fundy was busy on the big monitor typing some intricate code. When George walked inside, Fundy’s fingers stopped, his ears twitched, and he sniffed the air. He turned in his rolling chairs and his eyes brightened when he saw the plate.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wilbur told me to bring this to you,” George said as he handed it over.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy didn’t waste a second before gobbling it down almost whole. His eyes closed in what could only be described as an expression of pure ecstasy and he leaned back on his chair, savouring the strudel and then letting out a pleasant groan. George bit back the inappropriate joke at the tip of his tongue. “Have you tried these? Niki is literally a blessing from the sky. Best baker in town!” He swirled in his chair and set his plate on the table. George cringed when he saw him lick his fingers and then continue his typing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Curious, he looked over his shoulder. Although George was a pretty good coder himself and he understood a few lines of the code, Fundy had always been past his level of knowledge in programming. “What are you doing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Testing a code for our mission,” Fundy answered as he pulled out a flashdrive from the computer and then connected it to the laptop he had on the table alongside his plate. His eyebrows were scrunched together in concentration and the tip of his tongue was slightly peeking out at an angle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does it do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy sat back, and after a second, the laptop opened a command script by itself and lines of code started to run through the screen very quickly. About half a minute later, the script closed itself and Fundy took out the flashdrive to plug it into the big computer. When he opened it, there seemed to be a hundred or so folders named Documents, Downloads, Pictures, and such running down the list.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy leaned back and smiled wide, looking pleased with himself. “Downloads all the data from the laptop so we can transfer all the information in less than the time it takes to eat a whole strudel,” he replied before eating the other half of his strudel in one bite. He rubbed his hands together to swipe off the crumbs and then looked up at him. “You four have been on quite the mission, haven’t you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George chuckled and rubbed his arm shyly. “I guess?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy laughed and shook his head. He turned back to his computer and continued typing. “You got no idea how scared you had everyone at AGE.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” George frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. After some students overhead Skeppy freaking out about Bad being kidnapped, someone started a rumour that you guys were taken because you figured out what happened to him and the others who mysteriously left. The headmaster had to call an assembly and tell everyone they were taken to be treated for some illness.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Liars,” he spat out on impulse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy halted and raised an eyebrow at him. “Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sighing, George rubbed the back of his neck and considered telling him. After thinking of it for a moment, he decided it wouldn’t be a risk seeing as they had already agreed to help and from what he knew of Fundy, he wasn’t the kind to listen to authority, much less trust in it. Admittedly, it wasn’t so surprising that he had joined a group like the Bergman Defenders.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We found out they’d been taken into some program called Project Delta Z or whatever. The illness thing is just a cover up. That’s why we snuck out of the island to come find him. We overheard someone talking to the Headmaster and they mentioned a Seattle facility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy raised both eyebrows as George spoke. He crossed his arms and contemplated it for a moment. “That’s tough.” He turned back to his program. “You guys certainly have some courage traveling across the country,” he said as he continued typing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When did you and Techno leave?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We got here yesterday actually. The school dismissed everyone early after the stunt you pulled. You got everyone looking for you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George pursed his lips. Gravely aware of that fact, he squeezed his eyes shut momentarily, trying not to think about it otherwise he’d freak out again. “I don’t know how you expect us to pull off a mission in public when everyone knows what we look like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy laughed. “Don’t worry ‘bout that. Wilbur and Niki will take care of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hope so…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know I’m pretty great to hang out with, but weren’t you supposed to go back to Wilbur or..?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, right.” George turned on his heel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And George?” Fundy called out before he could leave.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” George turned around in time to see a plate barreling straight for him. He stopped it centimeters from his face and then picked it up, staring at Fundy with gaping eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy watched him with an amused expression. “Good catch!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George scoffed and then left the room. In the kitchen, Wilbur had just finished putting away the strudels and cleaning the counter. He smiled when he saw George approach and asked, “Ready?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you mind if I just take a shower and change first?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go ahead. Third door to your left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With an awkward nod, he returned to the room where he scavenged through Dream’s backpack to retrieve another pair of clothes. He spent most of his shower time contemplating what had occurred yesterday and what he was going to do now that Dream and Skeppy were practically sold on the idea of helping the Bergman Defenders. Unable to come up with any ideas, he left the shower disappointed and met Wilbur in the living room. He was on the sofa with a guitar on his lap, tuning and strumming a few chords.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George cleared his throat and awkwardly stood by him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you ready now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Setting his guitar aside, he stood up and gestured toward the door with a smile. George made sure to throw on his hood and some sunglasses before they made their way out of the building and into the streets. They were busier than the day before—with kids playing football out on the streets, pedestrians walking with bags on their arms and more cars on the road.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At one point, George took notice of a girl playing with her friends by a fire hydrant. It wasn’t so much their loudness that drew his attention but instead the fact the girl was water-bending and drawing shapes with the water out in the open. One of her friends joined in by blowing a gust of wind toward the stream of water and making it sprinkle all over them, causing them all to burst into giggles. It vaguely reminded George of those summer evenings when Dream, Sapnap, and him played Manhunt by the shore when they were younger. Whenever Dream would be the one hunting, Sapnap and George often sabotaged each other’s paths to get the other caught. Though, admittedly, even when it was Dream being hunted, they self-sabotaged by accident and Dream often got the best of them and ended up hunting them instead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For someone who attends an EM school, you look surprised to see people using their powers,” Wilbur pointed out as they strolled down the sidewalk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never seen an EM community be so…” George glanced at a group of adults beside an apartment complex with a grill turned on. After taking a sip of her bottle and glancing at the dying fire on the grill, one of the women opened a flame in her palm and reignited it without a second thought. “Open.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur shrugged. “Welcome to Queen Anne.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they rounded the corner, George noticed a homeless man sitting beside a bundle of sheets in front of what looked to be a beat-down old-style cinema center. Upon closer inspection, he noticed the bundle move and he realized it was a little girl wrapped tightly in the covers snoozing. Small, brown rabbit ears peaked out of the sheets when she moved to her side. George felt a knot form at the back of his throat as he noticed the sign beside them that read </span>
  <em>
    <span>‘Anything will help please. I only need enough for my daughter.’</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur smiled and greeted the man before he dropped a five-dollar bill in the cup he had set beside them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a blessing, Will, thank you,” the man’s gruff voice replied and he returned the gesture with a smile of a few yellowing, missing teeth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few more meters down the line, there was another old woman sitting and holding her cup, the coins clinking every time a pedestrian passed by without much notice. Wilbur dropped some money in her cup too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not what you expected?” Wilbur asked after a few more minutes of walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George bit his lip and bunched up his fingers inside his pockets. “I didn’t realize there were so many people living like this…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They passed a disgusting dumpster that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned up in months with overflowing plastic bags and trash scattered all across the floor beside it. A few meters away, there was an old, bricked apartment complex. It was around six floors tall and had a metal staircase leading up the middle in a zig-zag with doors at each level.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two kids on the third floor were sitting in the balcony throwing paper planes over the ledge and sending them flying with tiny gusts of winds to see how far they could make it. A few of the windows were open wide enough that George could hear the radio playing inside. Others had plant bowls placed on the ledge with vines long enough to reach the ground. There was a small garden on the other side of the building where a person was picking fruit from some of the trees and placing it in a basket.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, well, not every EM is fortunate enough to live at a special island boarding school.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George lowered his gaze. He stared at the cracks on the sidewalk as they walked over them. “Have you always lived here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I moved here years ago though. Phil took me in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hesitantly, George glimpsed at him and asked, “What about your parents?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur snorted and the thin line of his lips widened all the bit. “Sent me away from England to live here with my aunt because they didn’t want to see me. Ran away pretty soon after that. Never looked back.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George frowned. “Because of your powers?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded and raised his palm so that it was facing up. An orb of light grew on his fist and it slowly levitated to follow in front of them as they walked. After a second, it broke away into sparkles of yellow and fizzled off in the light of the early afternoon sun. “Not an uncommon story around here if I’d say so, and it’s certainly not the worst.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sucks,” he muttered, unsure of how else to respond.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bet you thought we’d be some criminal group with some fancy top secret base and spy gear, right?” He chuckled again and shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George snickered, his smile growing. “Not really. But I didn’t think you lived in a place like this or that you were so-” Not knowing how to finish his sentence, his words faded into nothingness.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Normal?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most of us are normal. You just haven’t gotten to know us, Gogy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George let out an embarrassed snort and raised an eyebrow at the odd nickname. “Gogy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Exchanging glances, Wilbur’s smirk widened. “Thought of it just now. Sounds fitting.” He led him across the street to turn another corner. “Have you thought more into helping us? We could really use your help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve made that pretty obvious.” Shrugging his shoulders, he looked to the side to watch a woman who was walking her dog on the other side of the street. “I don’t know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really, Gogy? Do you still need more convincing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugged again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, well, maybe this will help convince you.” He stopped by a building with a sign beside the door that read ARRC Shelter. Opening the door, Wilbur gestured for him to walk in first.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They entered the large cafeteria with scattered tables and a kitchen window on the right side. People were sitting at the tables talking while others were paying attention to the soap opera playing on a large television mounted near the entrance. Two kids were laughing and chasing each other while playing with some animal balloons and making roaring noises. Around the room, there were bulletin boards and healthy eating posters with fun and bubbly visuals pasted on the walls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Will! Is this another one of your new friends?” a kind-faced woman approached them with a welcoming smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When she offered her hand, George hesitantly took it and offered a nervous smile. He looked at Wilbur from the corner of his eye who seemed overly relaxed, and George forced himself to calm down. If she’d recognized him from the news, she didn’t show it in her calm expression.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Welcome to ARRC. My name’s Cristie and I’m the owner of this place,” she introduced herself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“George.” He nodded his head and watched her expression carefully. It didn’t change.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cristie! Will!” a little girl ran up behind her, instantly attaching herself to her leg and looking up excitedly. Upon seeing George, her smile faltered a bit and she hid behind Cristie’s legs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Molly. George’s not a stranger. He’s just a friend of Will’s.” Cristie smiled warmly and patted the girl’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Molly peeked her head out to glance at George curiously. Hesitantly, she removed herself from behind Cristie and walked closer, like she was inspecting him. “Are you an EM, too?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing at Wilbur who only offered George an encouraging smile, he kneeled down to her level and smiled. “I am. Are you one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Molly’s eyes brightened and she nodded excitedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What kind of powers do you have?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She leaned closer and whispered in his ear like it was a secret. “The wind listens to me when I tell it what to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George snickered. The girl stepped back and beamed. “What is your superpower!?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sent Wilbur an uncertain gaze, but he only nodded for him to show her. He stood back up, and without thinking much into it, he levitated the discarded balloon the kids who’d been playing near them left on the floor and brought it to her. Molly watched with a spark of amazement as the balloon landed softly on her hands. She stared at it for a moment and then asked, “The wind listens to you too!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George laughed alongside Cristie and Will, and shaking his head, he replied, “Something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, Molly, why don’t we take you back to your mom? George and Will have to go find their friends now,” Cristie said as she took Molly’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I want to talk to Geooorge!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe later,” he said, and Molly’s smile widened before Cristie pulled her away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur nodded his head forward. “Come on, I think I know where your mates are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George followed him into another door that opened into a gymnasium the size of a warehouse. There was a crowd shouting, talking, and whistling occasionally gathered further up, and George wasn’t sure what they were doing until he looked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On what appeared to be a parkour course mounted high near the ceiling, Dream and Techno were running through, dodging, weaving, hopping over beams, balancing on poles, and hanging over acrobatic swings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was the first time George had seen Dream wearing his mask since they’d left the island. The green hood from his hoodie was up too, and even though George couldn’t see half his face, he could tell he had that look of concentration he did every time he competed during events. His arms and palms were open on his sides as he ran and every time he jumped, it almost looked like he was flying. He landed on his heels and used the momentum from it to push his body forward, no hesitation as he dashed through the course. George had forgotten how short of breath he got every time he saw Dream like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno wasn’t much different. Although both of their parkour styles were confident and sure, while Dream was sly and nimble with his movements, pulling off every trick with a cocky smile and often spending more time with his feet away from the platform or back-flipping over obstacles, Techno was more steady and brute-force, his soles flat on the ground and taking huge, strong strides that kept him either one step ahead or behind Dream at all times, his mouth stern, his fists clenched and his arms tense on his sides. His pink braid swung freely from side to side as he ran. While Dream opted toward swinging through the bars, Techno kept himself on the platforms below, his feet landing hard and fast as he pushed through the course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crowd watched in awe, their eyes wide and their mouths agape. Some of the kids jumped and shouted “look!” to the people next to them like they weren’t also watching in amazement as the two ran the course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur blew out a low whistle as they continued to approach. “It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Techno look so determined to win. Usually, he doesn’t have to try too hard.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve always brought out that side of each other.” George nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They joined Niki and Skeppy who were standing at the very back, also watching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long have they been at it?” Wilbur asked as he stepped beside her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Twenty minutes now. It’s like they don’t get tired.” Niki chuckled and crossed her arms, turning around and smiling at the both of them. “This is their third lap.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy snickered. “Techno and Dream love to compete almost as much as George and Dream love acting all lovey-dovey.” He slipped his hands in his pockets and turned to grin at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George felt his cheeks grow a little warm and he scoffed. Refusing to give Skeppy the satisfaction, he chose not to comment on it. He turned back to the course in time to see Dream and Techno on their last obstacle—a pair of slanted platforms in a zig-zag pattern leading toward the finishing platform. Techno was ahead of Dream by a few steps and as they barrelled toward the end, Dream took the risk and skipped the platform on his left, opting for jumping straight across onto the last platform. The jump gained him one second on Techno. He leapt toward the last platform, and the crowd burst into cheers as he raised his arms in the air, exclaiming “LET’S FUCKING GO!” Techno joined him on the last platform right after.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the crowd dispersed, they climbed down. George and the others reached the front of the crowd in time to see them reach the ground. Dream slipped off his mask, his hair ruffled and his forehead sweaty, a wide-toothed smirk on display. Techno took off his pig mask and then shook Dream’s hand. He smiled faintly as they kept their gazes locked. “GG. I really thought you’d gotten rusty on me for a second there. Can’t have my favorite rival makin’ it look so easy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wasn’t about to let you beat my ass again,” Dream replied with a laugh. George was the first one he noticed when he turned, and he approached him with a cheeky grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George rolled his eyes when he stopped in front of him and looked down with a tilted head like he was waiting for praise. As if he needed any more of that. Looking over his shoulder, George noticed Tommy and Tubbo approach Techno.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the fuck!? Do you have any idea how much money I put on you, Techno? I would’ve won against that arsehole in my sleep! Why would you do me like this!?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno released a dry laugh and only shook his head at Tommy. Beside him, Tubbo opened his palm and gave Tommy a look, “Hand over the goods.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way, Techno totally lost on purpose to fuck me over!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be a sore loser, Tommy,” Techno said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just give him the money, Tommy,” Wilbur added with a smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Realizing everyone was giving Tommy an expectant look, Tommy scoffed and begrudgingly took out a crumpled dollar bill from his pocket and threw it at Tubbo. “I hate you all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo beamed and slipped the money in his pocket. Laughing, Dream gave Tubbo a high-five. Niki came up behind him and congratulated him too, also giving him a high-five. Seeing Dream interact with everyone like they were old friends gave George a funny feeling, and he found himself lowering his gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, Dream turned his attention back to George and raised his palm so he could get a high-five too. George only raised an eyebrow at the motion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh come on. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>can’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell me I wasn’t awesome up there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. You weren’t awesome,” George replied, trying to keep himself from smiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream laughed. His hand was still in the air waiting for George to high-five him. “Stop being an idiot.” He stared at George expectantly. “Don’t leave me hanging here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George rolled his eyes and finally high-fived him. Dream’s grin widened as he did, and he instantly interlocked their fingers. Pulling their hands down and swinging them together, Dream stared at him with a dumb smile that made George’s stomach do acrobatics.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Will, Phil said to go see him after George got here,” Techno said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, well,” Wilbur turned away from his conversation with Niki and Tubbo. “Let’s make it quick. I’m already starving.” He motioned for Dream, George, and Skeppy to follow him out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream and George held hands the whole way to Phil’s office. Beside him, Skeppy elbowed him, and when George looked up, he saw him raise an eyebrow and then glance at their hands. George tried to cover up his blush with a roll of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil, my man!” Wilbur exclaimed as they barrelled into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil looked up from his clipboard and smiled when he saw them. He placed the clipboard on his desk and leaned against it with his arms crossed. Behind the desk, Schlatt was sitting on the rolling chair with his legs crossed atop the table and rolling a large, gold coin in between his fingers. He scanned them carefully, his gaze unreadable. George found it incredibly uncomfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you want to see us for?” Dream asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, first, how are you lads liking the place?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream’s face brightened almost instantly. “It’s amazing! I didn’t realize places like this even existed! Especially knowing what you guys do, it just seems like a dream come true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Already sounds like you love the place, huh?” Schlatt added. He pressed his thumb on the edge of the coin and flipped it. George’s eyes remained glued to it as he watched it fly in the air and then clink against the hardwood desk. It spun rapidly for a second before it came to a halt, revealing the side profile of a woman. George didn’t recognize it as any country’s currency.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he looked up, he noticed Schlatt’s intrigued stare fixed on him. George looked away, though he felt Schlatt’s gaze remain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream rubbed the back of his neck and offered a shy smile. “I’ve just always admired what you guys do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So glad to hear that, mate.” Phil returned the smile. “Say, Wilbur, have you told them about the party Cristie’s throwing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Party?” Skeppy raised both eyebrows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaning his foot on the wall, Wilbur crossed his arms and grinned. His hair fell over his eye when he tilted his head and replied, “Right. Cristie’s been planning a community party for today. Why don’t you guys come? I’m sure you’ll find it very fun.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not really a party person-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re in!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George sent Dream a glare which he responded to with a confused glance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Phil chuckled. “Have you decided if you’re going to be joining us tomorrow, George?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George pursed his lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gogy isn’t convinced yet, but no problem,” Wilbur said. “I’m sure we’ll get him on our side soon enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gogy?” Dream asked. George’s cheeks warmed up when he noticed the puzzled frown Dream sent him. Though, admittedly, hearing the jealous beat in his tone was amusing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing away from the wall, Wilbur continued talking, “Why don’t we go get some lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I second that.” Skeppy raised his hand. “Niki’s strudels were delicious and all, but I’m really hungry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You lads go on ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before they could walk out, Phil called Wilbur back into the room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go. I’ll join in a minute,” Wilbur told them before walking back inside the room and shutting the door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Standing outside the door for a moment, Skeppy said, “What do we do now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yo, big man!” Tommy called from one of the middle cafeteria tables. Beside him, Tubbo was waving his hands very high and very obvious with a huge toothed grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shrugging, Dream nodded for George and Skeppy to follow him over there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Big D,” Tommy began, his expression breaking out into a smirk. Dream winced at the unexpected nickname and George had to hold in a snicker at his slightly embarrassed expression. “I’ve heard you’ve got a reputation at your fancy schmancy school?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Techno says you’re one of the coolest mods at the school!” Tubbo perked up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Taken aback, Dream replied, “He said that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Meanwhile, George scoffed and rolled his eyes, figuring it’d only be another boost to his already gigantic ego. Skeppy seemed to agree when he said, “Careful. You’ll wake the beast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh please. I’m just surprised is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” George muttered with another roll of his eyes when he noticed the side smirk Dream was trying to contain. “Last time someone complimented how you did in the championship, you talked about your strategy nonstop for three hours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>come on!</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Dream pouted. “You’re exaggerating.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George raised both eyebrows. “Sapnap literally set your backpack on fire and you didn’t realize until like fifteen minutes later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Dream could refute, Tommy cleared his throat. “Okay, okay, enough about that.” He clasped his hands together and leaned forward with his elbows on the table. “Look, Big D, I’ve heard you’ve been liking our little group. And guess what? It’s your lucky day!” He extended both arms and showed off his boastful grin. “I happen to be the only reason the Bergman Defenders exist.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream raised a doubtful eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “It’s true!” Tubbo added.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“See?” Tommy’s grin widened. “I’m kind of a big deal around here you know. I know it looks like Phil’s the one pulling the strings but-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait but isn’t Phil the one pulling the strings? He’s the leader, isn’t he?” Tubbo looked confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy turned to him with annoyance but then cleared his throat and continued. “Look, Phil </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> be the leader but I’m his right-hand ma-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I thought Schlatt was his right-hand?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At Tommy’s glare, George struggled to contain his laughter, though Skeppy made his amusement pretty obvious by cracking up. Dream was still staring at Tommy with a raised eyebrow but now accompanied by an amused grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, Schlatt </span>
  <em>
    <span>may</span>
  </em>
  <span> be Phil’s right-hand man. But I’m the brains in-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, I’d say Fundy is or Niki actually.” Tubbo paused to think for a moment, ignoring the way Tommy seemed to be on the verge of exploding right next to him. Admittedly, the duo were entertaining to interact with. “Maybe even Techno or Wilbur for sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tubbo,” Tommy grumbled under his breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” Tubbo blinked innocently, though George could see the slight smile threatening to come through and the gentle waves of playfulness in his aura.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So what you’re trying to say is you’re not really that big of a deal compared to everyone else?” Skeppy sent him his signature troublemaker grin that George had strangely missed for the past couple of days. Although George was glad he seemed to be a lot more open here (probably because he knew Skeppy and Techno had a strange friendship and he probably felt more comfortable around him), he was strangely uneasy because it meant both his friends had a low chance of backing out of the proposition.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh you bitch,” Tommy muttered with a glare. “I’ll have you know-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think Tommy’s trying to say that we want you to join us!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The table fell silent. George’s stomach fell when he saw Dream’s expression brighten at even the thought of being a part of their team—of staying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Phil’s been talking about taking more members for months now! You guys would be perfect for the job!” Tubbo continued.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll pass on that. This doesn’t really seem like my thing,” Skeppy replied with a shrug.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tubbo sent Dream a hopeful look. “Dream?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A smile spread wide on his face, and he opened his mouth to reply until he noticed George’s frown. His mouth shut, and more hesitantly, he said, “I’ll have to think about it, but I’d definitely be open to it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure we could find some use for you,” Tommy said. “Maybe as my back-up or something. I’ll obviously be the one in charge.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream snorted. “Right, </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment, Tommy eyed George with a raised eyebrow. “What about you, GeorgeNotFound?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not found?” George asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All the country’s looking for you. Not found? Get it? George</span>
  <em>
    <span>NotFound?</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Tommy leaned back in his chair and smirked. “I reckon that if I just walk up to a random civie on the street and say ‘Did you know that I’m friends with GeorgeNotFound?’ they’d instantly be shitting their pants. You’d be a good addition to the team for that. Somewhat badass, if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George couldn’t say that he exactly agreed, especially because people fearing him was the last thing he wanted, but it was also obvious that it was Tommy’s way to compliment him—as weird of a compliment as it sounded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you want to join us, George?” Tubbo asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not really my thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Seemingly showing up out of nowhere, Techno slumped down on the chair next to Skeppy. “Phil sent me to make sure you’re not scarin’ away the guests.” He sent Tommy and Tubbo a questioning gaze and then turned to the three of them. “They’re bein’ annoying, aren’t they?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For sure. Especially Tommy,” Skeppy replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I’m starting to think you have something against me, eh, what was your name again? Can’t say you’re the most noticeable in your crew.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ouch.” Skeppy snickered and shook his head, not offended by the insult.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tommy, I don’t really think you wanna get on Skeppy’s bad side. Last time I saw someone mess with him, poor guy ended up with half his tail feathers gone,” said Techno.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream burst into cackles and clapped his hands together. George joined him in his fit of laughter too when he recalled the drama that had unfolded the year that swan shifter messed with Bad and Coach Harris forced him to shift in class only for him to flash his naked pink butt and perform the walk of shame on the platform. Needless to say, later that day, Bad had scolded Skeppy for the prank he’d pulled on the poor shifter even though George had seen him trying to contain his laughter all throughout the class period.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Skeppy shook his head and looked off with a smile like he was reliving a fond memory. “Ah, yeah, the unpluck-the-chicken prank. A total classic!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur joined them soon after, looking across the table in confusion. “Have you not gotten lunch yet?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tommy scoffed. “We’re not fucking babysitters, Will.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re clearly also not good hosts. I thought at least you’d be a little more receptive with our guests, Techno.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Techno let out a dry chuckle. “You realize I’ve known these guys for years? This one, especially, can’t say I like him very much.” He signaled toward Skeppy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, Techno totally loves me.” Skeppy grinned and moved closer like he was about to give him a hug but Techno pulled back and glared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Raising an eyebrow, Wilbur didn’t comment on it. Instead, he looked toward Dream and George. “Alright, well, Dream? Gogy? Do you two want some lunch?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George felt the instant Dream’s aura shifted from a more amused tone to adopt a more bitter feel. Glancing at him from the corner of his eyes, George saw him tense his shoulders and his smile turn smaller. “Lunch sounds good,” Dream replied, though his voice was strained.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wilbur took no notice of it. Instead, he clapped his hands and grinned wider, “Alright then, let’s eat!”</span>
</p><h3>
  <b>* * *</b>
</h3>
<p>
  <span>The laughter of children across the field made his heart feel warm and airy. Especially as he watched Dream take the little girl, Molly, onto his back and zoom around with his arms extended pretending to be a plane. With her eyes squeezed shut and her arms wrapped around his neck, she cackled and showed off her missing teeth. Two other little kids followed behind with equally big beams on their expression. For a second, Dream glanced at George, his eyes and smile twinkling with such delight it made a smile spread wide across George’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though at the same time, he almost felt guilty inside. Mostly, it was because he knew this kind of environment was everything Dream had dreamt of: helping people, making them smile and brightening their lives. George knew that Dream would’ve accepted Tommy and Tubbo’s offer in a heartbeat. But he had only hesitated because of George. Because he knew it wasn’t the place for George, but it was certainly the place for him. And it left George dreading the possibility that Dream would decide to stay after everything was over—stay in a bright and beautiful community where there was no place for George. He was trying not to think about it, but looking through the space and seeing everyone’s faces made it difficult.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were happy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even in between all the exhausted buildings and impoverished conditions, George had never seen such a happier group of EMs. A man in a clown suit entertaining the little ones while he juggled some fire sticks with his bare hands. An old woman on her wheelchair growing and weaving flower crowns for a line of kids. A guy sitting in between the fountain and the cooler shaping ice sculptures with his hands for everyone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the field, Phil and Cristie were chattering with every person who passed by to pick up a plate of food. Nearby, Tubbo was playing with some younger kids who watched in awe as he raised streams of waters into the shape of animals from a bucket of water on the ground. Beside him, Tommy had his arms crossed and was pretending to roll his eyes like he was too old for their games. However, his expression soon shifted into an excited smile after a little boy approached him to ask him something. Almost instantly, he jumped onto the railing of the bleachers and did a handstand among some other cool tricks that soon had the kids cheering over. A splash of water hit him in the face and he almost lost his balance, though he caught himself and yelled at Tubbo who was laughing. Soon, Tommy was chasing Tubbo across the field (though George had a feeling he was holding back considering he knew Tommy was even faster than Dream after the little race they’d had on their way here).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vibrant music was booming across the baseball field beside the elementary school. From every direction, people were arriving and departing. Some greeted their neighbors and families with huge beams while others’ laughter echoed through the bleachers. The scent of hot dogs and hamburgers whiffed through the air. It was surreal. Witnessing such an animated community breathing life into the decrepit and old infrastructure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bad would love this,” Skeppy said from the chair next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George turned to regard him with curiosity. They hadn’t really had a conversation since the day at the bus, and frankly, it didn’t surprise George. It wasn’t so much that there was tension between them. It was more so that George and Skeppy weren’t super close. If anything, out of their group of friends, Skeppy would be the one he considered himself to be the least closest to. Bad and Skeppy were attached at the hip most of the time and half their year even jokingly used their Skephalo ship name. Sapnap and Skeppy had always been a chaotic pair, especially when they pulled off jokes on people together (God forbid to be the victim of one of their pranks). Dream and Skeppy weren’t as close, but they both certainly shared an odd positive spark that naturally drove people closer to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t until this trip that they’d really all been forced to face their dark sides. Even if it had been stressful, George felt strangely closer to them despite it all. Perhaps it was true that traumatic situations made you bond with people.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he’ll want to come back one day. I can’t say I see myself being a part of a whole vigilante group, but I know he’d be happy to pay everyone a visit. Especially when he meets them all,” he continued, lowering his gaze and smiling faintly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George smiled too and turned back to watch the crowd. “I think so too. You should bring him. After you graduate from AGE and everything, I totally see you guys traveling the world together.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From the corner of his eye, he saw Skeppy’s smile widen. “Yeah, I’d like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy approached them a little while later and slumped down on the chair on the other side of George munching on a bag of berries. “You guys just planning to sit here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see you doing much but stealing food off people’s plates,” Skeppy replied with a snicker.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t technically steal. They offer after I ask.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like peer pressure,” George pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy huffed and threw another berry into his mouth. “Technicalities, man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I haven’t seen Techno around,” Skeppy said. “Or that weird dude who's always in a suit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know Techno hates parties. He’s probably out pretending he’s a spy and reciting Sun Tzu lines somewhere or something.” Fundy laughed. “And Schlatt?” He raised an eyebrow and munched on his berry for a moment. Then he shrugged. “He doesn’t show up to parties too often. I actually don’t know him that well. He joined the gang a few months ago, and he’s really only close with Phil and Wilbur. Man’s great at talking for a Psychic but he’s not very open about his personal life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George’s stomach dropped. His head turned so fast he got a cramp on the side of his neck. “Psychic?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, he didn’t tell you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What type is he?” Skeppy asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy thought hard about the question and replied, “I think I heard Phil mention once that he was just telekinetic. Him and Schlatt go way back, so I’m pretty sure that’s right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Although he’d had a vague suspicion that Schlatt could be a Psychic, George found himself feeling a bit more unsettled by the confirmation. Especially because of the way he’d been staring at George like he knew something since the moment he’d stepped into Sleepy HQ. George had almost wanted to ask, but honestly, he was a little scared of Schlatt even though he seemed overly charismatic. Though his kind of charisma wasn’t like Wilbur’s bright character. It was more so that Schlatt seemed like he knew how to get into people’s heads. But at least knowing he was only a Type I made George feel a little more relieved.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Gogyyy,” Wilbur’s pleading voice called out in front of him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George turned to see him approaching with a drink in hand and a big smile. Wilbur put his plastic cup on the table behind George and offered him a hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” George looked confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dance with me!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, I don’t dance…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just one song! Nothing wrong with two mates getting it down on the dance floor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George’s cheeks grew hot. “Oh my god, why would you say it like that...” He rolled his eyes but ultimately took Wilbur’s hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Fundy whistled as Wilbur pulled him toward the center of the field where there were people of all ages dancing to the pop music. He laughed as Wilbur started doing some weird rickety movements with his arms and legs. Then George started lightly swaying to the beat when Wilbur accused him of not trying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few minutes into Wilbur’s dumb ‘dancing,’ they bumped into Niki in the crowd who cackled at Wilbur’s moves and then signaled for George to come closer. In between the loud music, she shouted into his ear. “I think you should probably stop dancing with Wilbur and go invite Dream to dance or something. He looks like he’s about to murder Wilbur.” She pulled away with a giggle.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George looked through the crowd and spotted Dream across the field staring at them with a frown. He laughed when he saw him and nodded at Niki before heading out of the dance floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream’s gaze remained fixed on him as he walked, and when he saw his frown widen into a smirk, George rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop looking like you’re about to beat up Wilbur.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dream snorted and grabbed onto George’s wrist when he was close enough. He pressed his nose into George’s hair like he was smelling it. It sent shivers down his neck and arms. “I don’t know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Gogy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he’s making it </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard not to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George swallowed. He debated whether they should talk now or later. He wasn’t sure a neighborhood party was exactly the place to confess his undying romantic feelings for his best friend. He decided it was a definite no as soon as he heard Dream’s next words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you decided if you’re going to help us tomorrow or not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Simply hearing the word “us” like Dream was already a part of their group filled his stomach with dread. He turned slightly away from Dream to instead watch as the people shouted and danced to the music.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>According to Phil, this was their purpose—protecting these people. People who were already underserved and pushed to the slummiest parts of the city. Parents who clearly worked day and night to provide for their families. Children with huge smiles whose only concern should’ve been to decide whether they wanted a blue or a red balloon, who didn’t deserve to be hunted and targeted for a part of them that made them special. A community inclined toward spreading positivity even though they’d only ever been handed dirt all their lives. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t deserve it—that was a given. But at the same time, choosing to help a wanted vigilante group would be the biggest risk of their whole mission. They risked being caught and being sent to prison. They risked being seen as criminals, this time for real, and being shunned by society forever. They risked their whole lives. And more than anything, George risked being sent away into a facility for life if he lost control. There was no turning back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Across the field, George recognized the little hybrid girl with rabbit ears arriving at the party holding her father’s hand, the one who Wilbur had given money to earlier that day. The father smiled wide after greeting Phil with a handshake. Cristie kneeled down to the girl’s level and caressed her cheek. The little girl looked up at her and then smiled bright as she received a plate of food that she instantly dug into.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George’s stomach grew more and more nauseous as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn’t help but think back to the girl at the diner—the one they hadn’t saved. The one that they’d left alone during her hardest time. Then he thought of the boy at the cruise. The way his shoulders trembled as he sobbed beside the pool, probably reliving the slurs and the scared children who’d run away from him, wondering what he’d done wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The music stopped, and turning to the crowd in the field, he saw Wilbur by the DJ with a microphone. “Let’s get this light show started!” he shouted, and the crowd cheered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Handing the microphone off to the DJ, he rubbed his hands together and jumped off the small portable stage to walk toward the middle of the field where a circular gap was forming in the crowd and only a few people were stepping inside of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Shortly after, the ten people in the middle settled themselves in a circle and opened their palms. The fairy lights hanging all around the field flickered and slowly lost their brightness. Gusts of dazzling energy circulated the air until it settled into football-shaped orbs of light that looked like pretty stars in their hands. They began to rise above the Photomentals’ hands, floating up toward the center of the circle and forming into one huge sun.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The crowd around them cheered as they witnessed the beautiful light that brightened the whole field in the dim light of the sun setting behind the horizon. And in a split second, the sun exploded into millions of twinkling sparkles falling over them like pixie dust. George’s breath hitched. Everyone burst into cheers and kids dashed through the field trying to catch the descending light.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow,” Dream whispered. George turned to him and noticed the white sparks glittering in the gold of his eyes as he watched the gleaming rain. “It’s beautiful.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned back to the scene and swallowed. His fists clenched and he took a deep breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>George wasn’t a hero. His only goal so far had been saving one of his best friends. In a society that loathed people like him, he’d learned to be selfish—as did many Psychics who either hid amid the crowd, stayed silent during injustices, or left everything behind to live a better life. George wasn’t a hero. He had never believed he could be one. But facing the real world and realizing how bad they had it out here, how much they could change, it shifted something in him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the back of his head, something pulsed. It was frigid and stern—filled him with a sort of hard determination that both empowered and terrified him. And for the first time, George listened to it. He took a deep breath and then met Dream’s curious gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll do it.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sooo... I recently got my meds changed because I'm seeing a new psychiatrist after spending months searching for a place that diagnoses ADHD and I've been going through some side effects.... also known as Light has completely stopped functioning in her day-to-day and they were barely able to get through revision for this chapter.</p>
<p>With that said, the next chapter is already written and it's almost as long as this one but I'm not 100% sure I'll be able to get through revising it by next Friday but I will try my absolute hardest. There's a slight change to the update schedule beside that which is Chapter 15 is moved to June 4 since MCC is the week of the 21st. Chapter 16 will thus be released on June 11.</p>
<p>I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. Let me know what were your favorite parts in the comments, they make me so happy to read, especially now while I'm feeling like an utter failure due to executive dysfunction and a myriad of other emotional issues that have gotten so much harder to handle this past week :(</p>
<p>Sinceramente,<br/>Light &lt;3</p>
<p>P.S. I didn't have the energy to write up notes for this chapter so I'm sorry :(</p>
<p>
  <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/31299005/chapters/77381609">Also, check out the sbi fic here!</a>
</p>
<p><a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> tumblr </a>&amp;<a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> twitter </a></p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This project has taken me months of planning, so if you enjoy it, please drop a kudos and a comment (it’s free and you don’t even need an account to do it)!</p><p>Also, if you like the story enough to support me in other ways, follow my Tumblr blogs <a href="https://lightns881.tumblr.com/"> @lightns881 </a>(I recommend dnf stories every so often)! Please tag me on any mentions of the story, I’d love to hear y’all’s thoughts about it :)</p><p>Thanks for reading! &lt;3<br/>Twitter: <a href="https://twitter.com/Mel_LightNS"> @Mel_LightNS </a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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